Crimson Lake
by Bittersweet Romanticide
Summary: Senseless murder, tension, impulse and the primitive beast that sets it all in motion. Inspired by a suggestion from EVAN AAML. Rated M for descriptive murder, swearing and sexual references.
1. Horror Movie Feelings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon, Lovelies, never did, never will.**

Chapter One: Horror Movie Feelings

Dear Reader, she knew how a horror movie started; not how it looked, but what it felt like. She had felt it all too many times before, almost any moment she was traveling with Ash, that sheer, unexplainable moment where your heart beats out of its cage, your palms sweat too fiercely and your mouth is too dry. That feeling you try to explain away, a weird hormonal impulse, paranoia, or, if feeling a tad superstitious that day, someone was treading on your future grave. You explain it away because the truth, really, is terrifying. Why believe that the horror movie is starting when something so much friendlier could be replaced?

That is what Misty did, despite the knowledge that her instinct had never been wrong before, and every shiver led to trouble. Over the years, she had learned there were certain things no one cared to hear, especially not under the hot summer sun. She would not speak of the tremble while they walked, while the thermometer in Brock's back pocket dragged itself up to the hundred degree mark, while the hot dirt path, yellow and cracked under the forest canopy, made the air and trees around her ripple, and would surely make the lake they were going to evaporate.

However, she would open her mouth to complain. "Dammit, it's hot," She moaned, more dragging her feet then lifting them. The once vibrant red sneakers were coated with dust, their color dull and laces limp. Her red hair drooped over pale, dusty skin and tired blue-green eyes, struggling loose from the side ponytail she had spent all of three seconds working on today. Her yellow shirt clung to her, tight in some places because of the red suspenders she wore to hold up her too short fading blue jean shorts. "Ash, why did you have to go and bring us out here on a day like this. It better be good. Better be loads better than some regular lake."

"Will be," He smiled charmingly, brown eyes dancing in delight. He took off his league cap and fanned himself, shaking his sweaty black hair, then shoved it back on his head. He wore faded jeans a black t-shirt, something that obviously did not help the heat. "Best campsite you've ever seen, right outside Pallet. It's got a ghost story to go along with it. I don't know it too well, just five kids, just like us, go into the woods. The parents hear the screams every night and look for them, but no one can be found, and, eventually, they do find their children, buried by each other in tiny graves marked with pebbles."

"And how did the last teen get buried?" Misty challenged. "If all the others were dead and buried, how did the last one get in the ground? Did he dig a hole and have his pokémon bury him underneath then suffocate to death? Seems highly unlikely, Ash. And if everyone was screaming, why didn't the parents just follow the sounds of the screams to get their kids? Why did the kids stay in the woods if their friends kept dying every night. I would leave, wouldn't you?"

"They couldn't leave because it was dark magic, same with the parents not finding them, duh," The boy rolled his eyes. "The monster buried the kids in the ground. You're not supposed to question a horror story, Misty. You're just supposed to get scared by it, not figure out if it's true or not. If you try and figure out if it's true it takes all the fun out of it for everyone else! So don't be a spoil sport and pretend to be scared."

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to do, scream?"

"Be my guest."

She was all set to scream, mouth open wide and taking in a deep breath when Brock clapped a hand over her mouth. The black teen narrowed his eyes at her and she blushed under his reprimanding gaze. He was taller than the rest of them, clad in dark khakis, a t-shirt, and a vest that left his muscled arms exposed. "Let's grow up a little. Can you stop acting like you're ten and start acting like you're sixteen. It's just a ghost story, Misty, and it's not that hot out. You don't need to use every excuse to argue with Ash."

"Yeah, don't argue with me," He giggled, crossing his eyes at her.

"Oh, shut up Ash. You'd be cranky too if you were in shorts. I'm getting bitten all over. You have no idea how much it _sucks _to be a bug magnet. I'm going to have mosquito bites the size of quarters tonight, you hear me? Look at this one, right here, it's about to start bleeding. Bug bites make me _bleed_, you insensitive bastard. You better have a lot of bug spray in your bag, because you didn't tell me where we were going and I had no idea I was going into the woods where there's bugs _everywhere._"

"Don't worry, Mist. I've got bug spray to spare. Don't have a conniption, okay?"

"I'm not the only one with a bug bite problem. Ask May, she'll agree with me, won't you May? You're getting all bitten up too." She turned for sympathy to her companion, but she was in her boyfriend's arms, happily swapping spit with him despite the attention turned on them. "Hey! It's hot enough as it is! Why don't you turn down the heat and focus on something other than each other? Like, oh, I don't know, getting me some fucking bug spray!"

"You're getting bitten?" May giggled. The brunette was set on the ground, her sparkling blue eyes set off her bright red outfit. Though her shorts were just as short as Misty's, and the t-shirt was just as tight, she seemed perfectly content. "That sucks. I never get bitten. Bugs have some kind of an aversion to me. Same thing with the rest of my family. None of us ever get bitten. It's pretty nice, especially in a place like this where the bugs are the size of your hand and they take _huge _bites. You're going to spend your whole night rubbing bug spray and aloe vera over you. I don't carry anything. How about you, Drew?"

He shrugged. With green eyes and green hair, he was certainly an anomaly. He wore purple and green, pants, shirt and a vest much like Brock. "I don't mind bug bites too much. I probably don't get it as bad as you. Sorry Misty. So, Ash, what's so special about this lake you're taking us too? Is it some kind of nude beach?"

"In Pallet?" Ash snorted. "No, nothing like that. I'm not sure how to describe it. Uh, let me think. I guess you'd describe it as…when the sun goes down, as it's setting, the lake looks like it turns this awesome deep blood red color. Usually it's so clear you can see the bottom, but at sunset it looks darker than it does at night. You can shine a flashlight straight at it, all you see is blood red water. You can't see down at all. It's so cool."

"Ooh, I'm getting shivers," May giggled. "Blood red water, sounds like something from a Hollywood movie. I bet that means I would die first, since I'm the prettiest of all the people here." She struck a model pose, putting one hand dramatically to her forehead. "Oh no, the beast has come for me! There's nothing I can do but scream and wait for it to drink every last drop of my blood. It's going to eat all my organs. Oh no!"

"Ugh," Misty groaned. "Could we not talk about this stuff? I hate blood and guts."

"That makes you the first to go," Ash snickered, waving his fingers tauntingly at her.

"Ash, you're such a dick," She growled.

He stopped. "Oh, you really are scared, aren't you?" He shook his head and smiled. "Misty, they're pretty sure that what was out here was a homicidal maniac because he moved his business into town a few days after the kids died. They threw him in jail and they guy died over fifty years ago. If it was a pokémon, it's already dead. The only thing you've got to worry about is ghosts, and all ghosts can do is scare you. They can't kill you."

"How do you know?" She accused, crossing her arms and glaring.

"Because I'm Ash," He retorted. "So, everyone can stop freaking out, there's not actually anything scary out here but a couple of ghosts and a legend or two. There's plenty of bugs and bug types to freak Misty out, but that's just the way the woods are. You're used to them by now, aren't you Misty? Or are you still paranoid that one of them is going to jump out and kill you every two seconds?"

"Hey, Ash?" Misty purred.

"Uh-huh," He said, cocking his head at her.

"You better start running, because I'm going to kill you!" She shouted.

He laughed and turned on his heel, barreling down the path with Misty right behind. She caught up to him and tackled him into the dirt. The two ended up scuffling for a while and the others walked back, May and Drew back to making out, and Brock muttering to himself something about how he hated teenagers. The wrestling tournament ended when Brock kicked them both in the side, making them separate and start walking peacefully once again.

Misty sighed and pulled the rubber band out to remake her side ponytail. "Okay, so, here we are. The woods outside of Pallet Town, and what lovely woods they are. I'm being eaten by bugs. I'm getting grossed out by May and Drew. I'm getting annoyed by Brock muttering under his breath about how much he hated us all, and, yeah, Brock, I can hear you. Ash, you're just being a total jerk, and we're in haunted woods. We're in woods where the lake turns blood red. That's troubling, Ash. How can you be so calm when we're in the _woods with blood red water._ That should be a warning sign in your mind to _not _go in the damn woods. This is dangerous, Ashton. Very freak a leaky stuff. We ought to get out of here now before something comes out and kills us, because I don't want to die. There's so much I have to do…you haven't even gotten laid yet," She snickered.

"Shut up. There's not anything in here you need to worry about, just snakes and rocks and trees. There's nothing dangerous in my hometown. Unless you're planning on getting freaked out by a spider or two, a spider that's harmless to humans, you don't need to have an attack. It's fine, and none of us real men are going to let anything hurt you." Ash puffed out his chest proudly. "We are strong! We are brave! We are men!"

"You're high strung on caffeine and testosterone. We'll see how manly you are when those run out."

"A real man never runs out of testosterone," Ash declared, thumping his still puffed out chest.

"Then you'll be running out pretty quickly, won't you Ashley?" She smirked, pushing him playfully. She had a little too much muscle behind her, however, and the nudge toppled him and the too heavy backpack, filled with useless niceties he could not have when he traveled across countries, and drove him hard into the ground, sending him sprawling into the dirt with a low moan.

He stuck his tongue out and threw his bag to the earth behind him. Ash looked at it for a moment, then nodded. "This can be our campsite. It's a few minute walk to the lake, the trail is about twenty feet away. I'd know how to get there anyway. I practically grew up in these woods. What I'm thinking is we can relax tonight, ghost stories around a campfire, roasting marshmallows, pulling Drew and May apart. Ew, seriously, could you two _stop _making out? I'm sixteen, I'm going to throw up. Stop it."

His plea fell on silent ears as the two continued to make out and Misty pulled a face of her own. "Alright, let's just set up tents or something. If set up a tent we won't have to watch…that. And, believe you me, the last thing I want to watch is that. I'm getting out of here before nightfall. I hate this disgusting place. We should have just stayed at your house instead of coming out to this hell hole to see blood red water! Haunted words, and you know how I feel about ghosts! You've done a wonderful job of terrifying me this time! I hope you're fucking happy!"

"There's _nothing _to be scared of, Mist," Ash said patiently. "I wouldn't have brought you if there was. Trust me, there's nothing more painful than the thought of a precious wallflower being injured. In fact, just knowing how horrible you feel from those bug bites is torture. If only there was something I could do to make the princess feel better! Tell me, I'm your damn slave. What do you want to make this whole thing fixed?" His voice rose to a scream.

"Number one, Ash Ketchum my name is Misty, not Mist. Number two, I want to be out of this fucking forest. Number three, I want you dead!" She stomped her foot and began to advance on him, face in a snarl, but Brock caught her shoulder and held her back.

"I'll go back with you tonight, Misty. I wanted to work on some stuff in Mrs. Ketchum's kitchen. She has some of the best herbs around. I'll even make you some of my home remedy bug bite cream. How does that sound? We'll stay for marshmallows and stories and go back before it's too late. That solves everyone's problem. No more arguing form either of you, is that okay?" Brock looked back and forth between the two still fuming teens, who nodded with gritted teeth. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Painful," Misty murmured, twisting away from Brock. "Thank you, Brock. You didn't have to do that."

"No, I didn't," He chuckled. "You should be kissing my feet with gratitude, you poor bug bitten freak."

"_This _is why I hate bugs," She agreed.

"Alright, everyone's calmed down," Ash said. "I've got an idea for a new game for me to play with Misty, one you're absolutely going to love. But, before we start anything, we've got to set up camp. Boys do tents, girls do firewood. Brock, you want to cook dinner for us, if it's not too much trouble?" The boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I, er, forgot to eat tonight. I don't think anyone else did either so, you don't have to but…"

"It's no problem, Ash. I've been cooking for you for the past six years, an extra night won't kill me." Brock clapped loudly and rubbed his hands together, starting Drew and May from their romantic actions. "You two, Drew help Ash, May help Misty. You can finish doing whatever you were doing tonight. Just make sure I don't have to hear it. Go team!"

**(PAGE BREAK)**

"Mmm, No-Chew stew," Ash grinned, "my favorite. Thanks for making it Brock! It's just like old times. You're cooking the best meals, I'm excited for the journey ahead and Misty is complaining about everything. The only difference is May and Drew. I know that they just got together, but don't you think they could stop for a couple minutes to eat? I think they're going to starve for love. It's like Romeo and Juliet, except it's disgusting because I have to watch."

"So what's this new game of yours, Ash?" Misty asked, spooning some hot liquid down her throat. "Wow! You really outdid yourself this time, Brock. It tastes fantastic! Did you try a new recipe or something, or are Mrs. Ketchum's herbs really that good?"

"Same recipe, just Mrs. Ketchum's garden that did the work this time," Brock grinned.

"So, are you nervous about my new game, Misty?" He asked, flashing his own smile her way. "Admit it, it's terrifying you. You're afraid of my revenge. You should be, I've got an awful lot to get revenge for. You've been mean to me my entire life and I think now is a good time to turn the tables. After all, everything changes around this age. I'm taller than you, so why not introduce a few other changes? Like, oh, I don't know, me being the sarcastic one?"

"I hope that's your first sarcastic comment, because I'm keeping that role, Ash. I only asked what the new game was so I would know how annoyed I'm going to be for the next few days. I don't want to talk to anyone I like while some annoying little twerp is bothering me twenty for seven."

"I'm not a twerp."

"Oh, please. You're such a twerp."

"No, I'm not! Take it back!" Ash began to fume.

"I thought we said no more fighting!" Brock moaned. "Guys, I made you a great soup and all you can do is fight. Why can't you two be more like Drew and May? Even if they are gross, at least they're quiet! Besides, we all know the only reason you two fight is because you're so desperately in love. You want each other. You _need _each other. You have dreams about one another, all hot and heavy and-"

"You're sick," Misty scoffed.

"Actually, Misty, that's part of my new game." The boy smirked. "It's the best part of my new game. Since everyone's always saying how much we're in love, and that's the reason we fight, I'm going to prove it. Since _you're _always the one that starts the fight, I never do, I'm going to prove you're in love with me. Before you leave for Cerulean, you're going to confess you're in love with me. Just you wait. Just you wait, Misty." He cackled.

"You're a spaz," She laughed. "I can't believe you honestly think that I'm in love with you. I love you just about as much as I love these man eating bugs you set on me. Listen, Ash, you're crazy. Not the ordinary kind of crazy, but the institution kind. I hate you more than anyone else I've ever met. Rest assured in that." She shook her head. "Completely nuts. You better not touch me. You know what happens if you do that." She glared at him.

"I know. You'll hit me where the sun don't shine," Ash grinned. "You don't have to worry, Misty. I'm just going to flirt with you and drive you wild with my masculine charms. I'm going to walk around without a shirt on. You'll go _wild _with lust for me. I'm sorry, I'll have to tell you now that I don't feel the same way. If you want to spare yourself some heartache, just confess it now and I won't have to rip your heart to shreds."

"…Alrighty," Misty said, cocking her head to the side. She shook it and turned back to her stew, scraping the bowl for some delicious morsels before continuing, "I'll try my very best there, Ashley. Brock, I'll try my very best not to maul Ash from pent up desire when he decides to take his shirt off. I wouldn't want to scar you like that. It'll be a challenge, but I think I'll be able to manage. I'll wait until We're all alone to molest him. Sound good, Ash?"

"No. I don't want to be molested, especially not from some tomboy with ugly red hair!" Ash complained. "But you will go mad with desire for me, Misty, just like all the other girls I've met. Lots of girls think I've amazingly hot, don't they Brock? I have fangirls like Gary's cheerleaders!"

"Really?" Brock teased, beginning to cover up the leftovers and tuck them away in his bag. "I haven't seen any. You've got to stop hiding those girls from me and stop sharing! That is, unless you don't have any and you were just pretending to have some. If I don't get some fangirls soon, we're going to have to say you're either a heartless jerk who won't share girls with his friend, or you're a nerd with no fangirls."

Ash sighed and hung his head. "Alright, I don't have any fangirls, but that doesn't mean I'm a nerd. It doesn't mean that Misty isn't in love with me either! I mean, you always blush when people accuse us of being together! That proves that you're in love with me!"

"No, it doesn't," Misty giggled. "It means that I'm embarrassed to be seen with you. Brock, shouldn't we start roasting the marshmallows soon? We're all done. Well, all of us that are eating instead of making out tonight." She rolled her eyes at the 'happy couple'.

"Oh, I don't know. It feels like we should wait for them, doesn't it?" Brock sighed. "It's rude to start when not everyone is finished. Then again, I'm not exactly sure they would care. Maybe it would be better to start. The sooner we roast marshmallows the sooner we can get back and sleep in a warm bed. Plus, I think we're do for a good ghost story." He nodded to himself. "I'll get the marshmallows and sticks.

May perked up at that, turning away from her boyfriend with a smile. "Marshmallows?"

"Of course," Misty giggled. "That's the one you heard."

"Your laugh is intoxicating," Ash whispered in his most romantic voice, cuddling close to his best friend, but not touching. "What do you say we ditch these kids and go have a romantic night of our own? I can think of a few good things for marshmallows other than eating. Doesn't that sound cool?"

"Sure…if you were Gary," Misty smirked.

"Aw! Why'd you have to bring him in?" Ash moaned at his rival's name. "I think this game is going to be harder than I thought. Why are you so stubborn? Don't you want to confess your feelings for me and pray that I return them with all the passion I can muster?"

"No," She snorted. Misty leaned forward to take a marshmallow and a stick from Brock's hands and dipped it into the flame. "I think it's time for ghost stories. One story, and then Brock and I are out of here. You guys better not plan on one of those stupid one-boy-tells-the-story-while-the-other-jumps-out-and-scares-the-crap-out-of-everyone things. I'll kill everyone who participates. I hate it when things jump out at me."

"That just makes me want to do it more! But no one else will do it with me. How about you, Pikachu?" The boy turned to his mousey companion and stroked its head comfortingly. It leaned into his touch with a small happy sound. "Come on, you want to scare Misty with me? You'll shock anyone who tries to hurt me, even if I started it? Besides, she uses all water types so if she calls out her pokémon we'll definitely be safe."

It glared up at him, ears twitching, then scuttled into Misty's arms and opened its eager mouth for a marshmallow to be stuck inside. Which, unsurprisingly, it was. Pikachu chewed with obvious delight and nestled into Misty instead of its true owner.

"…Pikachu ditched me," Ash whimpered. "Why? I raised you! I loved you! You can't betray me like this!"

"I think it just did," Drew smirked. "By the way, about you two going back. May and I left our pokémon at Mrs. Ketchum's house, would you mind letting them out for a while? Mine are fine on their own and they usually don't run off anywhere. If they do, don't worry, they'll be back around dinner time or at least come in for the night. I just don't think it's fair to leave them in for a few days."

"I agree with you one hundred percent," Brock nodded. "I'll let them all out for you tomorrow morning."

"Mmm, marshmallows," May murmured, licking her fingers clean of the gooey substance. "Let's hear a ghost story! Ooh, how about the one about the lake? I want to hear about it! It sounds creepy. I bet I won't be able to sleep at all tonight if I hear that one."

"What's so good about being so scared out of you mind that you can't sleep?" Misty sighed, feeding Pikachu another marshmallow. "Sounds horrible to me. I can barely stay up past eleven. It would suck to stay up all night."

"Aren't you the party animal?" Ash snorted.

"Shut up, Ash," Misty glared. "You're being worse than usual today. In fact, you've been annoying all week, hasn't he Brock?"

"He's just as excited as a puppy that his girlfriend is finally here," Brock laughed, despite Ash's ticked off expression. The boy snatched a marshmallow off the stick, takin a bit of the bark with him because of the fierce bite. "He wouldn't shut up about it. Sure, he tried to hide how excited he was, but he just couldn't help himself. He loves you more than you'll ever know. He fantasizes about you in his sleep. I hear him all the time."

"I do too!" May piped up. "Er, not fantasize about you, Misty. I hear Ash moaning about you all the time."

"You do not because I don't!" Ash growled. He turned to Misty and grinned. "Do you? Should I strip down to my underwear now so you can gaze upon my glory? You should see my six pack. It's amazing." He patted his stomach proudly and puffed out his chest.

"Huh, really? That's fascinating. Because I've seen you without a shirt loads of times and there's no six pack to be found."

"Oh yeah? Well, once upon a time, five teenagers, just like us, wandered into the forests outside Pallet," Ash's face took on an evil smile, his voice becoming as haunting and spooky as he could make it. "They were young, just like us, and just looking for some fun. This was a long, long time ago, and back then this place wasn't called Crimson Lake. The lake didn't turn that red color, not back then. How were they supposed to know that they were in for hell? Happy and carefree, they set up camp for the night, and it was peaceful. Nothing scary happened, nothing bad at least, they didn't think anything bad did. But, sure enough, the next morning they woke up to find nothing but the skeleton of their friend. The bones had been picked clean of all flesh, all the guts had been eaten and the bones practically shone in the sun. They were scared, but when they tried to leave the forest, something wouldn't let them. They tried and tried to walk away, but they were trapped by the tent and campfire. They didn't know what ghostly oddity was keeping them there. So that night, terrified, they went to sleep."

"Why would they go to sleep?" Misty asked. "Wouldn't they try and stay up so, they wouldn't get eaten? These teens sound awfully stupid if you ask me. Why didn't their friend scream as he was being attacked?"

"I don't know! He was a mute or something and teens in horror stories are always stupid! If they ran away from danger instead of towards it there wouldn't be a freaking story." Ash waved his arms erratically. "Will you let me tell the damn story without all your realistic crap?"

She crossed her arms, stuck her tongue out and pouted, getting a giggled from the rest of the group.

"Why are you laughing?" Ash whined. "It's supposed to be a scary story! You ruin everything Misty, you know that?"

"It's my job," She giggled. "And don't you go around blaming me because you're not terrifying, you got that? You're just too nice to ever tell a scary story. Maybe if Brock told it we'd be a little more terrified, but it's hard to be scared of someone with a voice like yours. It's all high and squeaky, not intimidating at all. My voice is probably scarier than yours. Maybe I should tell a scary story of my own, see who's scarier."

"I'm plenty scary!" Ash shouted, balling up his fists.

"Not really," Drew sighed. "You're about as scary as a dry towel that's just been fluffed up by a dryer. I'm sorry."

"No you're not!" Ash fumed. "I'm not going to tell you how the story ends now. You're just going to have to wonder forever what happened! Try and sleep at night figuring out what killed all the children and if it's still out there devouring the souls of young trainers!"

"You already told us earlier that they all died and the guy was caught in town. Remember, when you were trying to persuade me to stay and not be scared? Your plan pretty much failed there." Misty put another marshmallow into her mouth and gave a happy moan. "I love the super fluffy marshmallows you get, Brock! Where do you find these? You've got to send me some when I get back to Cerulean! My sisters would love them!"

"You're just ignoring me on purpose, aren't you?" Ash huffed. "Well, fine! I don't care about you anyhow! You should just get out of here, right now! Brock, take Misty back to my house! I don't want to have to deal with her anymore. Go now! Out of my sight!"

"Yeah, yeah, your highness," Misty rolled her eyes. "Brock, what do you say we do head out? These bug bites are really starting to get to me. If I don't get some of your special medicine soon I think I'm going to scratch holes in my arms. Don't you hate it when that happens?"

"No," Brock shrugged, standing. "Unlike you, I'm not a bug magnet. We'll see you in a couple days, right Ash?"

"Mmm-hmm, probably the day after tomorrow," Ash nodded. "And then I'll keep playing my game with Misty."

The girl wrinkled her nose and set Pikachu down next to her, carefully getting to her feet. "Great, wouldn't want to miss that game for the world. Brock, can we please get _out _of here before I go insane?"

The older boy grinned. "Alright, alright. Goodnight everyone. See you in the morning."

And, Dear Reader, she knew how a horror movie started; not how it looked, but what it felt like. She had felt it all too many times before, almost any moment she was traveling with Ash, that sheer, unexplainable moment where your heart beats out of its cage, your palms sweat too fiercely and your mouth is too dry. That feeling you try to explain away, a weird hormonal impulse, paranoia, or, if feeling a tad superstitious that day, someone was treading on your future grave. You explain it away because the truth, really, is terrifying. Why believe that the horror movie is starting when something so much friendlier could be replaced?


	2. Gallons of the Stuff

Chapter Two: Gallons of the Stuff

Their footsteps were heavy, their feet barely more than dragged through the dusty dirt. Each sported yawning mouths and half closed eyes, though only Misty continued to irrationally slap at imaginary bugs she still felt crawling about her skin, though the bugs tended to only flock at dusk and dawn. Brock, in turn, was getting increasingly annoyed at the young girl's phobia and was quite ready to shove her head in a bee's nest just to get her so frightened that she either knocked herself out or became completely devoid of all emotion. Either one had to be less annoying.

"Ash's house is too far away, Brock-o," Misty murmured, rubbing at tired eyes and yawning again. "I knew I wouldn't stay the night. I don't know why I even bothered coming. Sorry I had to make you go through all this crap. I could've made the walk home alone."

"Don't be stupid," He snorted. "Here there be ghosts. Even in a quiet town like Pallet there's bound to be a pervert or two walking around. It's not safe for anyone to wander by themselves after dark, not when you don't have any pokémon on you. _That's _what I can't believe Ash talked us into: ditching our pokémon for some half-brained plan to have fun. The kid's a hypnotist."

"Suppose," She returned, cocking her head to one side. "Something's following us. Nothing scary. It's not very big. I think it's just a pidgey or something. It's just that and wind, I'm pretty sure, but I've been wrong before."

Misty listened more intently; Brock responded by listening as well. Sure enough, there was the little pitter patter of tiny feet. Soon, they were greeted by the tiny electric mouse that so willingly followed Ash around. It staggered on its feet a bit too, tired from such a wild master and the hour of the night. It barely had the strength to leap onto Misty's shoulder and quietly mumble a few unintelligible syllables into her ear.

"Hey there, cutie," Misty crooned, scratching behind its ears. "Wanted to go back and get out of these woods, huh? You sense something's wrong. Silly Ash wouldn't listen, would he? I take it you're just escorting us home so the ghosties and beasties don't get us?" The mouse nodded. "I thought as much. You wouldn't leave Ash all alone in a creepy place like this. See, Brock, even Pikachu senses something wrong! Don't you?"

He shrugged. "Can't really say I do. I'm pretty tired though, so if you've finished your conversation with the electric rat? I was planning on getting back to the house sometime before sunrise; which is coming in about, oh," He looked at his watch: "Two hours."

"Your watch tells you when sunrise is and it doesn't even have a light up screen, huh Brock?" Misty giggled. "Guess it must be an invisible watch too. I didn't see you come into the woods with one. Were you concealing it until this very moment, Brock?"

"Cheeky," He returned. "Quit playing around, will you? I'm tired."

"I can tell," Misty sighed. "You're always cranky when you're tired."

So they continued their walk, a Pikachu now making a trio out of the lot, while Misty desperately tried to shove the feeling of something being increasingly wrong. She soothed herself, instead of panicking she began to calmly make a checklist of what she had packed and what she now brought with her as she left the camp. She was good at checklists because she adored order, the theory that everything had its place and that she could put it there. Things were so much better than people. They weren't sarcastic or stupid or annoying and they didn't argue and they certainly did not move from where you left them.

No, they don't move at all. And with this fascinating revelation, Misty smacked her forehead. "Aw, crap! Brock, you run ahead. I got to head back to the damn campsite. I left my backpack. Don't ask me how, but I forgot my _damn _backpack. I can run back and forth without a problem. In fact, I'll probably beat you back to the house. I've got Pikachu with me, so no worries, alright?"

She didn't wait for an answer, never being the patient one, as she sped off into the blackness, leaving Brock calling out to her and begging her to at least come back for a flashlight. She paid him no heed, muttering something about "Mama Brock" under her breath and continuing her barreling pace back to the campsite. Thankfully, Pikachu decided to listen and ran back to clutch the flashlight in its teeth. Her lips were starting to dry out quickly, and she couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to get a hold of her gallon sized canteen, full to the brim with lukewarm water, because she was so _damned _thirsty.

**(PAGE BREAK)**

Misty wasn't the only thirsty one that night. Dear Reader, for lack of a more creative term, The Beast was thirsty as well, positively licking its lips for some tasty morsel. Lukewarm water certainly wouldn't do for a creature of this nightmare caliber. Oh no, for something that only hell could have spat out, there was only one drink that it wanted. Blood, of course, fresh and hot and so salty it only made one crave more.

Hunting was its talent and what a talent it was. The raw instinct that every creature keeps stored in the back of its mind, the instinct of eat or be eaten, to be the predator or be taken by one. This creature, as all of its kind, was particularly good with this instinct. It had not just one way to kill but many, thousands quite probably, though when it came right down to it, blunt force was what The Beast tended to use.

Though thirst is an important aspect of The Beast, Dear Reader, it is not _the _important aspect. The important thing, for this night, was that it was frightened. It ached from running, its feet ached even more so. The Beast had already had conflict that night. There were two sets of footsteps it heard, one of a human, jogging and another of a small woodland creature about the size of a ratata.

It had run right up to The Beast, and then it had frozen with horror and began to charge with electricity. The Beast looked over its shoulder, tilting it with mild inquisitiveness when it released its power suddenly, a warning jolt, but it still hurt the none the less. Suddenly, the little woodland creature with a foreign object clutched in its teeth was no longer something to perk The Beast's curiosity; it had become a predator. And, if all it knew was one simple statement, The Beast was quite positive it was this: It would not be prey.

So, a jolt and The Beast was now a predator. It used a leg to kick the little thing with force, smacking it roughly against the tree. Its body broke with a crack, no time to make a sound but the whoosh of air from its chest. Ribs cracked, digging into lungs and a heart and other needed organs. It was dead, horribly mangled. Most animals would have backed down at this point, assured of its safety.

But The Beast was not defensive prey. It was a predator through and through, and it was hungry.

It crept close to the broken thing and sniffed, nose close to its pelt. The light scent of blood blurred the world around. Warmth still radiated from the body, such a contrast from the chilly night air. It put its mouth to the hole, already made by a jutting rib, and drank deeply.

And that was all The Beast did. It did not pick the bones clean of flesh or dig in with vigor; it drank. It drank until the blood was gone, and then it continued on its search. Straight ahead, never wavering from its path, it moved forward at a breakneck pace.

Then it heard voices, quiet, laughing, giggling, little moans. The Beast halted in its path and cocked its head to the side, faced once again with the question of predator and prey. It was quiet and it looked through the branches and looked at the shadows dancing inside the tent. Two of them, two strange creatures, close together and gasping while a strange scent that made The Beast wrinkle its nose and sneeze, only to have the scent fill its nose again.

It stopped.

The happy sounds turned scared, nervous, and a new smell went the air. Fear. They talked quietly, the girl clutching the boy closely and muttering words The Beast did not understand, so it retreated a bit, hiding deeper in the trees and shrubs. The boy began to stand, shushing the girl and stepping outside the tent. He was clad in only his pants, leaving his chest and feet bare.

He was scared, terrified. The Beast could feel it in its bones. The way his steps were cautious, light as if already preparing himself to run. He paused in his stride to the woods, picking up a stick and gripping it tightly in his hands. He called out, his voice defensive with a shaky undertone, while swinging the stick wildly as a show of strength. He kept swinging as he approached The Beast's hiding spot.

It crouched deeper in the bush, whimpering slightly, causing the boy to turn in its direction.

He smiled cockily and turned the stick in his hands. That was when he made his fatal mistake. With a heave, he brought the branch high about his head and swung it down with full force into the bushes. It connected with something and he snickered. It didn't feel big and he was sure he heard a crack. It was probably a rabbit or a squirrel or some other harmless creature. Drew kneeled down; all set to take the creature back to camp and scare his girlfriend with it.

With a snarl, it leapt from the bushes, furious with the bruise beginning to grow on its back. Its claws dug into his skin, one tilting his head back and the other digging deeply into his collarbone. Blood dripped off the sides of his forehead where the skin was broken, each drop rolling down agonizingly slowly. His eyes widened, his mouth opened but no sound emerged. Too shocked to speak, he gasped and bucked once under The Beast before it bowed forward and ripped out his throat.

It dug in with vigor, this time relishing each drop. It sucked Drew dry, growling with pleasure and making sure no drop was wasted. When no more blood could be gather form the neck, it explored. Where there was blood, it bit again, shaking its head to rip off chunks of skin to get to the blood beneath. It sucked each new hot spot clean until Drew was emptied. Then it cleaned itself, licking the blood off its lips and paws and forelegs.

Then it shook its massive head and went to find somewhere to sleep for the night. It had had its fill.

And, ironically, it left its 'broken bones' behind, the thing that Drew had heard and led him to drop down to his knees. The branch, thicker than Drew's fist, lay broken in two on the forest floor, a few drops of blood from where it scratched into The Beast's hide and tried to leave it for dead. There it rested, and there it would stay like the scar on its back.

**(PAGE BREAK)**

"Aw, fuck," Misty muttered, stumbling into camp. She leaned forward, panting, exhausted. "Where's my bag? Ash? You still up? Where's my bag? I know you have it." She looked around, hoping to spot it lying on the floor or hanging off of a tent. It was nowhere to be seen, so, with a touch of anger, she rattled the tent she knew was Ash's in a weak attempt to rip it out of the ground.

Though she failed in ripping it out of the earth, she succeeded in waking him up; Ash was not pleased about this. "Misty? I thought you were heading back to my house! What'd you come back for?" He crawled out of the tent, disgruntled, and punched her leg. "If you're going to get out of here, why don't you do us all a favor and stay out? I don't want to hear you complaining the next few days about your stupid bug bites!"

"My bag, Ketchum. I know you stole it so give it back," She ordered.

"Maybe the monster stole it."

"If you don't give me my bag back right now I'm going to kick you in the face, you little fuck, how does that sound?" She shouted, clenching her fists. "All I want is to get out of this fucking place!"

"Cranky, aren't we?" Ash muttered. "I didn't take your stupid bag. You left it and by the time we found it you were too far away. I figured you wouldn't want it badly enough to come back so I was going to keep it and give it back to you when we got out of the woods. You don't have to be a bitch about it; I was just trying to be considerate. Damn."

"Sure you were, Ash," She snorted. "I bet you were just keeping it to annoy me. Wanted to bring me back because you just couldn't live without me. You know I wouldn't leave my bag behind."

The boy turned back into his tent and emerged a few seconds later holding the red drawstring bag. Ash held it out to her, sighing. "Here, go back. I'm sorry I was trying to be nice. I should know by now that nice people really turn you off. I didn't open it; I didn't touch it; it's all your stuff. If anything's missing I guess the ghosts of the dead teenagers came back to haunt you. I was just trying to have some fun with you, Mist. I don't actually hate you."

"Too bad the feeling isn't mutual, huh, Ashley?" She smirked, swinging the bag over her shoulder. "See you in a couple days. Thanks for watching my bag and not going through it."

Ash glared up at her. "You still think I went through it, don't you? Even after I told you I didn't; you think that I went through your mewdamned bag. What the hell happened to turn you into such a cynical-?"

"Ash, Misty?" May asked tentatively. The girl came out of her tent, shirt on but unbuttoned, shorts forgotten. "Drew…Drew went out a while ago. We heard something. I know it's stupid for me to be worried but…it was at least twenty minutes ago and he's not coming back. I don't see him anywhere close and I'm scared something happened to him."

Misty rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me Ash got to you with that stupid ghost story. There's nothing out to get you, May."

"No, but what if it's an ursaring or something?" May insisted. "You know how cocky he is. I think he might be stupid enough to take one on. He went out with a branch and ever since he got with me he thinks he's the greatest thing since canned bread, more than usual. It's made him stupid and I don't know if he's crazy enough to be hitting something he shouldn't. I don't want to go out on my own. Could one of you…?" She trailed off and looked at them hopefully.

"We'll both go," Misty soothed. "I'm sure he's fine. He probably just wandered off somewhere. You know how bad boys are with directions. Don't you think you should, ah, button up?" Misty traced a line between her breasts to her navel, hoping May would get the point.

"Oh! Right," The girl flushed. "Sorry. I forget. It's just been so wild, you know what I mean? Everything's been out of control and I'm worried about Drew and…" She moaned and put her head in her hands. "I must seem like a whore right now. Arceus, you must hate me."

"No, May, you're not a whore," Misty consoled as May began to button her shirt. "No one hates you. The only one hated here is Ash because he went through my bag. Isn't that right, Ashton?" She smirked at the boy.

He glared. "Come on, May, let's find Drew. The sooner we find him, the sooner we get rid of Misty, and who doesn't want that?"

"Looks like I'm not the only cranky one," She chuckled. "So, which way did Drew head off? We'll start there. He probably just walked straight down to the water unless he actually found something. These woods are pretty empty. I'm sure he's just wandering."

"You really think so or are you just trying to make me feel better?" May asked weakly.

"There's nothing out here, May," Ash grinned. "The scariest thing you're going to find is Misty and the only person she's trying to kill is me. The lake is pretty enchanting at night. I could understand how someone could get caught up in it. Sort of like Misty's eyes when the moon reflects off of them."

"Oh, not this again," Misty groaned. "You're horrible at flirting, you know that? You're never going to get me to admit undying love if you keep this up. What do you think, May? Is Ash being charming enough for you to admit undying love?" May tried to smother her giggles. "Well, there you have it, Ash. You're not charming in the least. It looks like you're going to lose this one."

"I am not!" Ash pouted.

"Will you leave me alone if I lie and say I've never met a man as wonderful and sexy and handsome as you?"

"Not unless you mean it."

"Then you're out of luck," Misty smirked.

They walked in silence for a while, every once in a while calling out for Drew and receiving no response. Misty was beginning to get her horror movie tingles again, knowing now as firmly as May that if they did manage to find Drew, it wouldn't be a pretty scene. Her voice trailed off, no longer calling out for their companion as she lapsed into thought, her imagination running away with her, images of Drew's mangled corpse entering her mind as some giant black widow spider (actually, the bug she pictured is known to the rest of the world as a mosquito, but Misty was no entomologist) went in to finish the job.

May screamed when she found him. Not an ordinary horror movie scream, just one shout before diving into another strong man's arms, but a scream that kept on going. She tried to stifle the high note, covering her mouth with her hands, but failed miserably as the sound leaked through. A bird or two woke up, fleeing the area at the sound in hope of finding a quieter place to sleep.

There really is no way to stop a scream like that. She had no thoughts, no feeling but despair and, in all truth, knew no way to release it but to scream until her lungs gave out; which, thankfully, wasn't too long. Also rather thankfully, she did not take another breath and scream on and on until her voice no longer functioned. She fell to something much more useless (as a scream might scare away the predator that attacked the boy) and fell to tears beside him. She collapsed to the floor dramatically, draped over his chest and whimpering into the skin, sticky from being licked clean of all blood.

There she stayed, and there they waited, for over an hour. What else could they do? It was best to let her cry it all out for a while. Eventually, they dragged her off Drew and told her to go back to camp. Ash and Misty would bring the body back to camp and use the shovels to dig the grave. Obviously, May was in no state to do it, not with the tears and the panic in her. She was incompetent to do anything at the moment, really. She reluctantly agreed, but made them swear they wouldn't put him in the ground without her there to say some goodbye words to her late lover. They agreed.

"What could have done this?" Misty murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat. She had the arms, or, as she couldn't help but to think of it, the side where the head lolled back unnaturally and the neck bone shone through the night thanks to the ripped out throat. "I've never heard of a creature that leaves them meat on the bones, Ash. And don't vampires usually just bite and suck?"

"Misty, don't just," He whispered.

"I'm not joking Ash!" She cried, almost dropping the corpse. "What else sucks the blood? No pokémon _just _drinks blood. No animal, either. At least, there's no animal that drinks blood that's big enough to drain a whole person. Even then, bloodsuckers do their best to keep their host alive. They want to keep their host alive so they can keep leeching off it, no pun intended. I'm not joking."

"I know you're not, Mist, but I'm just a freaked out as you are. In case you haven't notice, I'm carrying a dead guy."

"And I'm not? Just because you're cranky doesn't mean you get to snap, asshole," She retorted. "And it's not _a _dead guy; it's Drew, our friend. He's been killed by something and let me tell you Ash, things don't just kill once. Whatever this thing is…it knows it can kill people. I don't know if this is the first time it's tried or if it's known for a while, but it'll try again now that it knows we're food. We can_not _stay in this place."

"No argument from me on that one," Ash agreed. "Misty, I'm sorry about before. I seriously didn't think there was anything deadly in this place. It was just some stupid ghost story! I didn't think-"

Misty cut him off, glaring. "This _isn't _a ghost story. This is a real thing. It's a real creature and it's got a taste for human meat. It isn't some stupid ghost floating around with a knife and magical paint that turns the water red. It's something real and it's dangerous. If we stay here, we're going to end up food for some rogue ursaring like Drew. It's probably mating season for something and it was just killing to defend its territory. If we're in bear territory we have to get out and fast. You're with me on this one, right?"

"One hundred percent, but here's my problem: What kills something and _just _drinks the blood. Territorial pokémon don't kill and drink the blood. They kill and walk away or they kill and eat or they just hurt something! Maybe we do have a psycho vampire on our hands."

"You joking?"

"No."

"You seriously think we're face to face with Count Dracula?" She snorted, tossing her head in a weak attempt to remove the hair from her face. It tore loose from her ponytail and fell right back. "You know, I was supposed to be out of these woods by now. Instead I have to bury my friend so he's not eaten by growlithe or some shit. I don't even know if burying him in camp is a good idea. What if something tracks the smell of something dead and edible all the way to the campsite?"

"We won't be here; won't matter."

"Good point."

**(PAGE BREAK)**

They buried him using shovels from their backpacks. One good thing about their world: everything shrunk. They said a few quiet words, talking about what a good person he was, even if he was a jack off some of the time, and how he would have wanted to go this way. Of course, that last part was a lie. Drew probably wanted to live to a ripe old age and die in his sleep, not with his throat ripped out, but certain things weren't appropriate to say at a funeral.

"What now?" Ash asked.

"I'll head back, bring people, shouldn't take long. You guys stay here so we know we're the campsite is," Misty said. "May won't be able to travel and you're better at this comfort stuff then I am. Plus, I've already run tonight, so my muscles are all warmed up for a marathon run back to Pallet. What do you say, Ketchum? Keep May out of shock until I get back with some help and guns?"

"Good with me," He nodded. "Good with you, May?"

She stared at the grave, blinking at the rock they used to mark it. She had barely said a word since they found him. She hadn't made eye contact since she got into camp, and was even loss vocal now than before. She did nod her head slightly, as if to agree, then May slid to the floor and cuddled up to the marker as if it might hold some of the warmth Drew once did. In all honesty, it looked more pathetic than sweet. It only looked worse when she began to cry again.

"Well then, I guess I'll be heading out."

So Misty set off.

She ran and she ran and she ran in a straight line, what she was sure was a straight line and found herself right back in the camp. It was then that she collapsed to the floor and stared up at the sky. Despite Ash's yelps and cries, there was really nothing to say. What could she say? They were stuck. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run. The horror movie feelings had proved themselves true, just like they always were. She had ignored them and now she paid the price. At least, Drew paid the price, and she was quite sure they would all suffer the same fate. They were all to be drained by some vampire creatures and left as shells for Mrs. Ketchum and Brock to come and collect and sob over. How was she supposed to say that to Ash and May when she barely felt like talking?

"Misty! What's wrong?" Ash insisted, panic rising. "You…you forgot something? You don't know you're way back? Do you want me to run, because you're tired or you're too freaked out? It's no problem, Mist, I'll run. Just tell me what's wrong and I'll try to-"

She held up her hand, and looked back and forth between the two. Finally, she smiled and said in a voice much too calm for the situation: "We can't leave. We're fucked."

She continued her strange grin; Ash fell into an emotionless stupor; and May, once standing, promptly rolled up her eyes to the back of her head and fainted.


	3. You've Got Guts, Kid

Fanfiction took away all my bold...  
Well, reading the reviews is going to be fun for this chapter...-sighs- It IS under M for mature...

Chapter Three: You've Got Guts, Kiddo

She had never been a Pollyanna, not at all. In fact, she tended to be a downer, focusing on the negative and the bad things that were sure to happen and almost never finding that little ray of sunshine in the darkness all her friends seemed so amazingly great at finding. And though she had a slight suspicion if Ash was in this same position he would be glad he didn't end up with a tick or lime disease, she could really only focus on one thing:

They bled, her mosquito bites. That's what she awoke to, her fingers wildly thrashing against the lumps in the dark, low hisses releasing through her teeth. They burned and itched, only made worse by her frantic fingers, but she could not seem to help herself. While her right hand dropped to scratch, wrapping around to reach a bump on her lower left side, she raised her left arm to her mouth and used her teeth. Not that it helped much; all it really achieved was to draw more attention to her other bites and to give her mouth the salty, coppery taste of blood. This led to muted curses at mosquitoes, and any other bloodsucking insects that may have taken a taste.

Misty's hand dropped to her leg and scratched, a strange feeling causing her to yank her nails back and scrub them on her sleeping bag. A small mosquito, now dead, was trapped beneath her nail, spilling the blood it had gathered onto her finger.

"What's going on out there?" Ash mumbled sleepily, looking out his tent. "Mist, you're goin' crazy out there, practically eaten alive. Come in the tent. We'll zip it up and keep the bugs out. Bunking down with me and May has to be better than that. I swear I won't make a move on you."

He crept out, arms dangling limply at his sides as he approached her. His eyes ran over her body, looking at the oozing bites she had on her arms with a growing twist in his stomach. The lumps were growing with her scratches, some the size of pennies, some the size of tennis balls (though they didn't jut out nearly as wide at a tennis ball would), and not a spot remained uncovered. Each one was accompanied by pinpricks of blood, dripping down her skin and mixing with her sweat.

She was obsessed with itching now, not bothering to even grunt a response as she bit. Only when he kneeled and gave her one quick, rough shake did a flush cover her cheeks and she finally looked up at him. "What do you want, Ashley? I'm sick and tired of you by now. You're stalking me just like Team Rocket. So, unless it's something to stop the itch, I don't want to hear about it."

"Now you're just setting me up for failure. You know I don't have anything for it," He said, dropping his head forward and massaging the back of his neck. "Mist, get the damn tent. I'll sleep out here if you want, but you're going to bleed to death or something. It's freaky as hell." His questions were ignored, met only by more (but slower) scratching. "They get you everywhere?"

"My clothes saved a lot of the crucial parts, but, yeah, if you have to know I've got one or two on my butt. They must have crawled up my shorts," She smirked, not meeting his eyes. "I don't need charity. Besides, the bugs are already asleep and going in now isn't going to make anything better. I'll hide in the tent at dawn and dusk. Nice of you to worry though; it's cute on a boy your age."

"It's warm in the tent," He tempted, grinning.

"Nope," She shook her head. "I'm telling you Ash: I'm no charity case. Head back inside your tent and get me in the morning. May needs you in case she has a freak out. You can make everything better when she starts screaming; you're awfully fucking good at that." Her voice was touched with venom, eyes narrowed and anger taken out on a quarter size bump on her ankle.

He put his hand on hers, the action just enough to get her to look at him. "If it makes you feel any better, I'd rather be here with you." He hesitated. "Only you. The reason I brought everyone else is, well, I can't go with you alone. Everyone would make fun of me and I bet my mom probably wouldn't like me taking you out here as a sort of…substitute for a date. She'd rather me get dressed up so she can take the pictures."

She snapped, "What, another attempt to woo the Waterflower? No fucking way. Try again later. Drew's dead, you asshole, and you're out here making jokes. You know, I used to think that you were stubborn, but boy oh boy does this one ever take the cake! You don't even care about your dead friend, do ya Ketchum? Oh, no. Not if there's a prize to be won. Not even a prize you can touch, just another thing to boost your ego."

Her eyes, the deep blue they often fell to when she was angry, were piercing in the moonlight as she leaned towards him. "I'm not going to be another step on your ladder for being the egotistic bastard we all know you strive to be. I'd rather go hang out with that fucker of a rival, Gary Oak. At least he doesn't play with a girl's emotions like you're trying to do. He tells them right up front that he's going to fuck and leave. He gets what he's after: hookers. You're not after a thing but-"

He moved forward the few centimeters than separated them to lean his forehead against hers. Her shoulder length hair, sweat and blood soaked, clung to her face and seemed to almost drift towards his. Her gasps were ragged, heavy, and whatever plaque stuck to her teeth had festered enough to give her mourning breath. Eyes were wide, all anger melted to be replaced with a twinge of worry and a twinge of lust.

Without a word, he turned his head and laid his lips to hers, gentle and warm. She shuddered once and let her eyes slide closed, the stress of their situation fading with his warm scent of sweat and forest and just the distinct smell of Ash. She allowed his lips to gently move against hers and his hand to lightly tangle in her hair. Misty clung to him in turn, not too tight, but just hard enough to show that she maybe, just maybe, could use a bit of comforting herself. Maybe she wasn't as hardened to the core as she let him think, maybe she was just as scared as he was, and this felt just as intoxicating to her as did to him.

His tongue slowly pushed into her mouth, but still too fast, too far.

She pulled away, just a few seconds from when they started, gradually pulling his hand from her hair. "I'm not here to boost your ego. I'm not some fucking hooker, and I don't believe for a second there was anything in that kiss. Don't touch me again, Ketchum. Don't you ever even think about it."

He smiled, a playful smile, not a greedy shit-eating grin. He knew she was lying, and she knew she was lying. Ash was almost tempted to lay her down and return to what they were doing, finished what they'd started. It would have been easy, her eyes already flickering with restrained lust and her hands fluttering about, rubbing up and down her thighs, wanting desperately to crawl over his skin instead of her own.

Not to mention, she looked so kissable right then. Her lips were parted, breath still heavy, and her hair was wild around her. Unlike the other girl's her met, that had cuts and designs and dye, it was cut straight across and was straighter than could ever be flat ironed. Though she was bumpy, love and lust were still at him, wondering what exactly it would be like to run his fingers over those bumps and wondering if there was any chance he could make her feel better with a sexy distraction.

But it was broken, the chance to kiss, by May coming out of the tent. "Misty? Ash? I woke up and I was alone. I can't be alone any more. Please, can't someone come in with me? If Ash is getting hot, Misty can always come in. You don't mind two girls sharing a tent, do you Mist? It's no problem, you've got sisters." She was pleading, her blue eyes round and pitiful, like a child that lost her mother at the mall.

"I already…" She began, then sighed with a glare at Ash, who had a smile that was growing bigger by the minute. "You're loving this, aren't you? Dammit, Ash, I'm going in that tent, but it sure isn't due to you. And what you did…that kiss…I hope it meant double for you, because it didn't mean shit for me. Never will."

"You want it," He purred wickedly. "I can see it all over your face."

Misty didn't turn her eyes away from his, glaring. "May, I'm coming. Don't worry. Ash and I were just talking about this. He was getting hot inside the tent and wanted to sleep outside, so we'll trade. And I don't want to be mean, but don't call me Mist, not now, not ever. I don't like nicknames."

"But Ash always calls you-" She began, eyes still round.

"Ash is an idiot," Misty retorted coolly, finally turning away from Ash and walking into the tent. Her hand grasped May's and led the still slightly baffled girl inside, though her gaze tried to linger on Ash. "Come on, he'll be fine. In case you haven't noticed, he spent about six years in that sleeping bag. He'll be fine for one more night."

"He spent six years in your sleeping bag?" May giggled.

Not missing a beat, Misty retorted, "We're very close."

Once inside, Misty zipped up the tent, not desiring any mutant bugs that decided to stay up past bed time and drink her blood. Then, with a sigh, she turned to look at the other girl in the tent with a silent prayer that the brunette wouldn't want to talk to her. May had already cuddled into her sleeping bag, staring up at the top of the tent as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world, until Misty had slipped into her sleeping bag. Then May turned to her, grinning.

"So, what were you two talking about?" She asked with a giggle. It was halfhearted, but making fun of Misty was certainly better than thinking about Drew. She almost shuddered at the thought, but kept her mind focused, her face smiling, and blocked her green haired lover from her mind. "You both looked pretty flustered. I haven't seen you two look like that since you were thirteen. Were you talking about your love life?"

Misty turned her back on her, a little guilty for doing so, especially after the way the girl was traumatized. "No, we weren't, and I don't want to talk about it with you. Even if we were talking about it, I sure as hell wouldn't want to talk about it with you. My love life is my own…secret, I guess. I'd like to keep it that way."

"It's okay," May smiled to herself. "I know how it is. You're just a little touchy because you're defensive about your feelings. You're scared of getting hurt."

Misty snorted. "Scared? The only things I'm scared of are bugs and whatever that thing is that killed-" She cut herself off, swallowing nervously. "Uh, right. I meant, May, I'm not scared of getting hurt. I don't really have a reason to. I've been the one to break up with almost every guy I've dated; I've never been cheated on; really, why should I be scared? I'm just irritated because Ash is trying to seduce me and he's not doing a very good job. Do you know how irritating it is, when a guy is attempting to seduce you and you don't want to be? I don't my heart to be some kind of game to him."

"You're not a prize to be won," May concluded helpfully. "He treats you like you're just an object instead of a girl with feelings."

"Exactly!" Misty said, turning back to her and nodding eagerly. "I mean, I could stand it when we were little. He treated me like I was a boy, but, you know, at least he still treated me like I was human. Now it's like I'm not even a person. It's like I'm a trophy! I've never been a trophy wife kind of girl. I just wish he'd see me like I'm a girl, you know, or at least keep seeing me like I'm a friend again. He's not the same guy I met all those years ago. He's a jerk now."

"I know what you mean. But what can you expect? You went from a ten year old to a teenager, he's got to change at least a little bit. If it makes you feel any better, he mostly changed around you." May consoled, touching her arm lightly. "I'm sure it's not just a game to him. Maybe he's just trying to hide something from you?"

Misty snorted and rolled her eyes. "Sure he is, and my name's Cynthia the dragon master. I've never been a real girl to him and now I'm nothing to him at all. It's not that I really care what he thinks of me, and my thoughts have never been this bad before, but sometimes it feels as if I'm trying to push everyone away, to be alone. It's gotten worse ever since we got in this stupid forest. All I want it to be alone, especially from Ash, the stupid boy! Sometimes…sometimes I just wish…" She began, but abruptly turned away from May. "Let's not talk about this anymore. Let's get some sleep, alright?"

"But Misty-"

"Really, May, I don't want to talk anymore," Misty sighed, closing her eyes tight. "Just go to sleep."

When May fell silent, Misty bit her lower lip. What was wrong with her? Ever since she had gotten into this stupid place that was exactly how she had been feeling. She just wanted to be alone. Her fingers swept over a bug bite and felt sticky blood, still dripping, and moaned softly. It was times like these that she just wanted to go home, and now that wasn't even an option. Misty was quite sure she couldn't even talk to May, not about this, definitely not with her deeper thoughts. If she had finished that sentence…Arceus only knew what the girl would do. Probably faint again. Maybe she'd scream or just finally snap.

But how could she explain, honestly tell them, that for some reason she wished that whatever is was that got Drew…

…had gotten her?

(PAGE BREAK)

It was May who heard something that night. Nothing loud, but a quiet snap in the background that made her head shoot up in shock. Something was out there, she knew, and she was not about to let it get away. If whatever it was, pokémon, animal or human, was still out there, it wouldn't be for long. She was out for revenge against that thing. It was going to pay for the day it messed with her love. No, it certainly wouldn't get away this time. It would all end tonight if it was the last thing she did.

She stood quietly, hoping Misty wouldn't wake up. She eyed the redhead suspiciously, slowly walking towards the zipper. She stiffened when her foot tapped the edge of Misty's sleeping bag, but the girl didn't stir. She thought it was strange, and looked closely. She couldn't see Misty, and she assumed her head was hidden under the covers. May, deciding to be cautious, opened the zipper slowly, getting to her knees and raising it about halfway up, just high enough for her to crawl out.

Ash was sleeping, flat on his back and snoring loudly. He had a bit of a dreamy smile on his face. His tanned features were blissful, and she stopped a moment to stare at him. He was a good boy, perfect for Misty. His temper matched hers, they could talk things through, and they definitely had the flirting thing down. She kneeled by him and smiled, a strange sense coming over her, almost like she was saying good bye.

"Sleep well, Ash Ketchum. Have good dreams," She whispered, sweeping his bangs out of his face. "Don't let it get her. She's too good for you to let her go to a thing like that, and we all know nothing's strong enough to kill you." May smiled, a bit bitterly. "I'll be back, though, I won't let it get me. I'll be back."

She stood, but only to walk a few feet to the campfire. There, she picked up the rocks along the edge, two of them, each as big as her fist. She weighed them for a minute, up and down, and nodded to herself. She could kill something with this. She'd feel safer if she had a knife, but neither of her friends carried around anything like that. At least, she didn't know if they did and she didn't know if she had the time to search their bags. If the creature was out there, she was not about to let it get away.

She set off in the woods, waiting until she was a good distance away before she began calling out: "Come out! Come out, come out wherever you are!" She chanted in a lilting voice. It darkened a moment later. "Come out, you fucker. I've got a surprise for you. I've got something to kill you with. Come on, you terrified piece of shit. You killed my boyfriend. What, don't you think you can take a little girl?"

Nothing responded to her, the only sound that followed her rant was crickets and other night-going insects. She shouted again, a wordless cry in hope that something would wake up. Nothing did, at least nothing she could see, and she screamed again: "Get out here! You killed Drew, didn't you? Come get me! I can take you! I'll kill you, dirty bastard." Her voice turned to a snarl, her lips pulled away from her teeth.

She spun quickly at the sound of something emerging from the bushes. On all fours, it snarled, hair wild. The Beast wasn't huge, barely over one hundred pounds, lean and strong. It had wounds, open and bleeding all over its body, sliding down into the leafy earth and lingering over its hands. Its eyes were wild, predatory, and now angered. No more was The Beast interested in defense, in saving itself, but now it was set to attack. It was hungry, and certainly had no qualms about devouring yet another human.

"You!" May spat. She gripped the rock tighter, recognition in her eyes. "I should've known it all along. You were the only one who wasn't there when he died. All the rest of us were back in camp. We were quiet, you were restless. I should have known! I should have known! How can you live with what you've done!"

The Beast returned her accusations with a growl. It walked with much more grace than it should have, looking awkward on its hands and feet, circling her like a shark with its kill. Its teeth bit into its arm suddenly; the bite hard and sending blood up into its mouth. The Beast seemed unsurprised at the motion, not even twitching at the pain. It looked back at May and spats its blood at her feet. Then it grinned at her growing disgust.

"You think that's funny, don't you?" May snorted with disbelief. "You're barely even human now, aren't you? You don't even know what you did last night. Remember how to use your hands, huh? Remember what tools are? I bet you don't." She began to laugh a bit, hysteria setting in. "How shocked are you going to be when a rock comes flying at your head, Dracula? Is it going to hurt? I'm going to kill you while you're unconscious, I think that's fair revenge for eating my love."

It growled again, face wrinkling. This one didn't have a trace of fear on her. The air lingered with adrenaline and anger. Everything from the way she stood to the way her knuckles were whitening over the stone showed she wasn't the type to go down without a fight. This complicated things. The Beast was not the one for confrontation. It wanted a quick kill, an easy kill, and a feast before returning to its sleep.

It cried out a moment later when May chucked a rock at its head. It struck its shoulder, slicing open the skin and leaking another vein of blood, this one a huge burst of heat. It growled, shaking its head wildly and using its opposite hand to wipe off blood. The strange feeling began, a tingling hotter than the blood repairing the muscle and sewing the skin back up, leaving only a small scar to linger. The hand swiped again, useless still, and only succeeded in smearing the blood along its skin.

Meanwhile, May laughed, almost crazy cackling that rocked her body. "There you go, that hurt, didn't it? Crazy bitch!" She transferred the other stone into her right hand, her dominant and, and pulled the arm back to pitch. "Now, look, you've gone and forgotten how to be human. There's a reason we're the ones putting pokémon into balls. It's because we learn from our mistakes, and we're willing to fuck with anything!"

And she threw it again, screaming wildly.

The Beast caught it with two handed, almost dropping it thanks to the blood.

Then it began its own laugh, a deep chuckle. Still on two legs and one hand, it smiled at her. "Silly girl." It growled, voice unsure. It grinned at its comment, pleased with its voice and continued on, louder than before: " It's not about learning, it's just about erasing and taking control of what's left over. Learn from your mistakes…that's a good one." It bounced the rock in its hand. "Oh, there's where that fear scent is. Now you're scared. Well, Princess, you're not dealing with your run-of-the-mill psycho. You're dealing with an evil too old for you to kill. You can't even touch this."

She looked on, mouth slightly round, face draining itself of blood. "I…I truh-trusted you! You…you killed-"

"No," The Beast chuckled. "Not me. You didn't trust me." It stood up, wobbling on its two legs as if upright for the first time. The rock slipped a bit in its hands, but it regained its grasp again. It looked at its hand for a moment, face puzzled. "Should I kill you? Standing up? No, no, that would be much too simple. That wouldn't be nearly bad enough to justify as revenge. Maybe I should take your idea?"

"You're not crazy. You're possessed," May whispered, stumbling back a step. She fell all the way down, landing on her butt with a painful rock jutting up under her. Her breath caught tight in her chest and she gawked, disbelieving this could all be happening. "You…I have to tell Ash. I have to kill you. You're going to-"

"Oh, no. You're not going to leave any time soon. You're certainly not telling Ash." It chuckled and stepped closer. "It shouldn't be long now before I can control this stupid body for a little longer than what it takes to kill you. Though, I have to say, it's lovely to end up with someone like you. You're such a fighter. You've been such a pleasure killing. But now that I'm in phase two of my three step plan, well, really, there's not too much effort involved. You're not even armed."

"You wouldn't hit an unarmed opponent," She tried weakly.

"Aw, sweetie," The Beast crooned, kneeling down. It took one hand and propped her chin up, smiling. Her thumb moved over her jawbone gently, an almost affectionate manner, though its eyes were too icy to put sincerity in the gesture. "I'm a fucking demon, kiddo. What the hell to do you think I'm going to do?"

And The Beast brought the rock down onto her head, a violent slam the May didn't even see coming, the motion faster than lightning. Her skull shattered on impact, the pieces driving into her brain and killing her in less than a second, but it didn't seem to be satisfactory. Again and again the rock slammed into her skull, breaking it into more pieces than a jigsaw puzzle. Each crack sent delighted shivers down The Beast's spine. Each time she brought down the already blood covered rock it dug in deeper.

"Aw, somebody made a mess," The Beast said finally, licking the stone clean. Once it finished, it tossed the rock to the side and sniggered. "Well, what use crying over spilled milk? Best to clean it up and move on with life."

And that it did. It cleaned all the blood, the flesh, the guts and left nothing but bone. Little pieces of flesh hang off of it in the moonlight, dangling morbidly for the crows and late night scavengers to enjoy. It started quickly, gulping down morsel after morsel without any hesitation, its hands returning to the floor once again, taking their place as tools for walking and scratching only.

But it slowed as time went by, swallows were followed by heaves of an unruly body, rejecting the uncooked meat. The Beast forced it down, however, making sure as much was finished as possible. Then, with all its unnatural grace it dragged the carcass near the campsite, much lighter now without the flesh, where the bones were sure to smell: a warning for whatever waited or dared to step in its path.

Once satisfied there, it crawled to the lake, cleaned itself of blood, and went back to sleep.

(PAGE BREAK)

Ash smelled it: the rotting, stomach turning scent of rotting flesh.

He woke up gagging, having to put a hand to his mouth to keep it in. He rolled to his stomach, waiting a moment for the nauseous feelings to pass. They didn't, not really, but eventually it lessened enough for him to get to his feet and march towards the smell. Walking just a few steps into the bushes, he found it.

The corpse, more like the bones, were destroyed from the shoulders up. The neck was bent at a strange angle, looking as if it had been broken backwards, then twisted around like a slinky. The skull was shattered, nothing but an empty cavern with a pointed, cracked bone around it. It looked like an opened eggshell, that is, if the person opening the eggshell merely threw it hard off a building and into the concrete. The rest of her body was mangled and twisted into strange positions. Thanks to the drag over from the deep woods, branches and dry leaves and dirt were stuck in the spaces between the bones.

"Oh, Arceus, May, what did they do to you?" He whispered.

For a minute, he hesitated to call Misty, his mouth hanging open, begging to wake her and bring her running out. She didn't need to see this, didn't need to know what had become of their friend. But he wasn't sure if he could handle this alone, bury her and tell Misty what had happened in the morning. Arceus, he wished he could. He had faced dastardly villains, terrible peril, and even his own death. But, never a friend's death.

He swallowed. "I can bury you all by myself. It can't be that hard." A light laugh. "I can be a gravedigger for my friend, fun."

His hands shook as he ruffled through his bag. He was surprised that no tears came to his eyes, that he couldn't find any words to say any scream to make. He felt almost numbed by the death. As he expanded the shrinking shovel and began to dig in deep to the dirt, he realized that it didn't feel like he was burying May. It didn't feel like he was burying anyone. It just felt like he was digging a hole, as if any moment his friends would come out and add their shovels to the pile, pretending to be Team Rocket.

Maybe that that was why it hurt that much more when only Misty came out and, without any words, brought her own shovel to dig with him as well. She seemed unsurprised by the death of their friend; hurt too, he could see that from the tears she was trying to hold back. It was more like losing a friend to cancer or AIDS then to some man eating monster that, more than likely, would be after them too.

But the hole was made deeper, soon so high over both their heads that Ash had taken a running start to jump out of the hole and Misty needed him to pull her up from the outside. The real problem came with putting May in the hole, wondering how they could possibly touch their best friend's bones and not throw up at the feeling of lingering muscle decaying against their still living skin. Finally, even though it pained them to do so, they settled for gently rolling the once-May thing with their feet until it rolled into the hole and hit with a thud that, quite possibly, broke some of their once-friend's bones.

Then they covered her, with all the love and care they still had, they buried her six feet under. If nothing else, they could do that tenderly. They could pat down the soil and sit on the grave as the sun rose up and whimper, holding back tears and wanting to let them fall. They could stack rocks and pebbles in pretty fashions as grave markers, say kind words about their good friend, wish her the best of luck finding Drew, hope she could have everything she dreamed of and more.

And, possibly most importantly, they could throw their heads back and howl curses at the creature that did it. Scream insults and moan and rock over May, expressing anger over sadness and wishing there was some way to make that thing pay for what it had done. They could stalk around the camp and scream. Run around, down to the crystal clear lake and back, run off in some random direction only to be brought to the same hellish campsite they tried to escape. They could throw tantrums that only bruised themselves, only hurt themselves, and did nothing to bring their friend back.

They could not cry. No matter how hard they tried, no matter how longer they waited for the tears to come, they wouldn't. And for that, they moaned and ran and screamed and cursed all the more. They received no answer from The Beast, it did not emerge from its hiding spot, or sleeping spot, and they imagined that it liked to watch their torment even though, in reality, The Beast really didn't care in the least.

It was evening, when they finally could speak to one another again.

Predictably, Misty was the first one to speak. And, predictably, she said this: "Mewdamned bugs." Then she scratched at her scabs and made them bleed all over again. "Don'tchya hate these bugs? Even a crazy bug-loving boy like you has to hate these damned things a little bit in a place like this."

"I hate anything that hurts you," He murmured, taking off his hat and fanning himself. Then, with a slight smile, he replaced it. "Really, we ought to get inside the tent if the bugs are coming at you like that. No point of your getting tortured thanks to a few good-for-nothing bloodsucking creatures. Too bad there aren't more spiders in these woods, then we might get less insects. But, then you don't like spiders so we're kind of right back where we started, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, Ash. I'm sick of all the flirting. Don't you think the situation is a little too dramatic for you to be making jokes?"

He glared, breathing in and out to try and soothe himself before speaking. It didn't work. "Maybe I'm just trying to brighten up a crappy situation. Not all of us like to wallow in self-pity. Some of us like to brighten up the day and not sit in the fetal position, gnawing at our wrists and legs because we're too damn stubborn to just go inside a freaking tent, zip it up, and stop the bugs from eating us alive! Some of us have a little more intelligence than purposely make ourselves suffer! What are you? Some kind of cutter?"

"Yes, Ash, I find the pain soothing! That's why you can see all the scars on my arms!" She held them up, eyes narrowed. Her arms were clearly unmarked but for the bites, no knife marks or bite marks left behind. "If I was a cutter, I'd be biting into these bumps a lot harder than what I'm doing right now. I'd bite these welts right off if it would make me feel any better! Maybe it's not about the pain, did you ever consider that? You're just looking and all you're seeing is the physical! There's more going on here than just some pain on my wrist. There's more going on than just bug bites! You've said it yourself a million times! I'm a weird, complicated person! Now, I know you're not the brightest so I wouldn't expect you to get the reason, but by now I would think that you would at least know by now that it's never about the first thing you see!"

"So what's wrong?" He shouted, balling up his fists.

She retorted, "Maybe you would know if you actually meant any of those things you said!"

"Oh, please," He snorted. "No guy ever knows what is wrong because you never tell us. If you tell me I can help you. So, Misty, I'm listening, I'm calm. Why the hell won't you go inside the tent and stop being such a bitch about all of this?"

"Yeah, Ketchum, talking like that is really going to get me to open up," She rolled her eyes and turned her head away.

"Listen, Misty, I know it's a really tough thing to believe, but I do care. I care a lot. I want to know what's wrong. I want to make you feel better. Even if you don't believe that I care about you in a sexual way, you have to at least know that we're friends. So, as a friend, can you open up and tell me what's wrong?" He walked right up to the girl, though her back was to him, and touched her shoulder. "Let me know?"

"Don't touch me," She growled, twisting her shoulder away from him. She tried to walk away, chin down against her collarbone and hands crossed over her chest.

"Stubborn," He returned, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close. It was a fast movement, almost rough that crashed her into him. "I care, dammit. Can't you just let your guard down for once and believe me?"

She smirked. "Well, with that thing running around I'm not so sure letting my guard down would be the best thing to do at the moment."

"Why won't you let your guard down?" He asked quietly. His hands fumbled for her wrists and held them lightly, urging her to stay where she was and not run away. Lucky for him, she decided not to run . "Why are you so afraid to just let go? I mean…why won't you let yourself love me?"

"You're a tease, Ash Ketchum. You're a no good heartbreaker. You tell me all that stupid stuff about how you like me and how you want to be with a pretty girl like me and you don't mean a single word of it. It's not right to play with a girl's heart like that, and you should be ashamed of yourself. It's no proof of how great a guy you are if you make a guy fall for you just so you can dump her. That makes you an ass." She glared up into his face. "Aside from that, you're just not attractive to me. Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

She stared, truly stared, and had to swallow the lump forming in her throat. His eyes were curious, soft brown and looking at her just as hard as she looked at him. His features still smooth and boyish, his face was tan, his lips thin but still strangely attractive. His hair was as wild as him, black and itching to escape from his hat. And how she would love to help it out from its container and get her hands in it.

She looked into his eyes and licked her dry lips. Her heart was beginning to thump in her chest, faster and faster, filling her ears with the noise and her face with hot blood. "You're…you're going to kiss me now, aren't you?" He nodded. "Well, hurry it up. We don't have all day."

He did, tilting his head to the right and gently bringing his lips to hers. For a second, they held it, shaking and scared to go any further. Then, the dam broke. Mouths opened to let tongues inside, hands fiercely whipped off rubber bands and hats, casting them to the ground. They were content with that for a while too, intensely running their hands through each other's hair, making soft moans when the other did something particularly nice.

Then it wasn't enough. She broke away, holding his hand tightly, and led him to the tent. Blocking out the evening glow, she zipped it up. Then, frantically, frightened, she unclipped her suspenders and went back to him, lips crashing against his roughly. Her hands pulled off his jacket then yanked off his shirt, scratching and smoothing the skin and making her new found loved one moan with pleasure.

She took his hand and guided it under her shirt. He hesitated, but then eagerly followed her lead. His hands unclipped her bra and his lips trailed down her neck, nipping and kissing while the temperature in the tent seemed to climb.

She tackled him, pushing him roughly to her sleeping bag and straddling his hips. They were both panting, losing breath from the kissing. "I know this is ridiculous, but I don't want to die a virgin. We're all going to die here, Ketchum, and when it comes down to it, I'm so glad that I'm stranded here with you instead of Gary or Brock or Tracey because, that stupid flirting thing? You didn't need to bother with it. I love you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember." She ripped off her shirt.

Ash felt his mouth drop open, his breath coming in more vigorous pants. "I've, uh, I've never done this before. I might suck at it."

She grinned, and lifted his hands to cup her breasts. "I've read enough romance novels to get both of us through this. So, if you don't have any objections…?"

"There is nothing I could possibly object to," He laughed lightly, a blush tinting his cheeks. He took a deep breath, feeling butterflies rising in his stomach. Ash laid his head on the sleeping bag and sighed, laughing lightly. "You know, I was pretty sure the only way the weekend could go like this was if I was dreaming."

She leaned forward and pressed her bare chest to his, kissing his neck slowly while her hands fiddled with the button on his pants. "If you're dreaming, you better not wake up. I swear I'll kill you if you do."

(PAGE BREAK)

They lay there, sweat soaked on top of the sleeping bag, naked and hugging each other close.

Ash sighed, "That was awesome." And Misty started to cry, hugging him closer. "Misty? Are you okay? I couldn't have screwed up that badly. You told me everything I had to do! I'm so sorry, Misty. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do anything that would hurt you. I'm sorry if it wasn't everything you wanted."

"Oh, Arceus, Ash, you dork! You did fine!" She cried, smiling despite it. "It's me, Ash. It's inside me. The thing that killed Drew and May was me. I can feel it Ash. It's breaking me and I'm trying to fight it but I don't think I can. I think it was a bug, Ash. I think it was the bugs. They got inside me. I felt them crawl under my skin. Oh, Mew I feel it, and it wants to kill you. It wants to kill you and I don't want to let it. I love you so much and you're so fantastic," She sobbed harder. "And it's going to kill you."

"Shh, Misty," He soothed, rubbing her shoulder. "You're talking crazy talk. There's nothing in you. Nothing's going to kill me. We're going to get out of here. The only thing we have to worry about is me knocking you up." Ash attempted to chuckle at that.

But his stomach was sinking and his throat was clenching. Because, really, he'd seen Misty in a swimsuit not a couple days before they came, and he had never seen that scar on her shoulder before.

Aside from that, her breath seemed to still have the lingering taste of blood and what he imagined to be human flesh.


	4. I'm Not Afraid Of Leaving

**Chapter Four: I'm Not Afraid to Go, I'm Afraid of Leaving You**

_Shit, shit, shit,_ He thought violently, rubbing her shoulder.

Misty, his companion, his love, the beautiful girl he had traveled with all those years, that lovely girl he longed for. He stroked her sweat soaked skin gently. Her mosquito bites had healed, along with any bites he had added to her collection. He figured it was from whatever was inside her, whatever was taking her over, whatever had killed his other friends. In a sense, it was killing Misty too. He dimly wondered why he felt there was nothing he could do about it this time. Possibly from, what had she called it? In her many ramblings, she had referred to it as something...The Beast. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the reason none of them could think clearly, why they felt like they were nothing but fish in a barrel.

Which led him to wonder: was it the bugs? Was it because of them his entire life was being ripped apart? Maybe Misty did have a valid reason for hating them. Maybe, deep down inside, she always knew they would be the death of her. He should have listened to her. He should have done something other than annoy her, prod her forward into the woods and prod her into her, _their_, doom and death. But he never had, and probably always would. He was always too cocky.

And what in the world had happened to his Pikachu? Was his little buddy dead? Probably. He'd have to ask The Beast when he encountered it. He'd have to ask it why it did what it did, why it chose Misty. Wasn't he good enough for it? He thought he was a great candidate for being murdered, for murdering his friends. He was stronger than Misty, being male. He had the crazy ego, he had a history of being easy to possess. Why wasn't it him?

She stirred. "Ash?" Misty blinked her blue green eyes at him and smiled, nestling deeper into his chest. "Let's go again."

He smiled back, feeling his heart flutter. Still, despite the situation, she could do that to him every time. It was love for sure, too bad he had realized so late, that the only time they could admit to one another was when they were damned, when they were an inch from death. If only it had been a few days earlier, they never would have had to leave that day. He would have been content to go on a date, to an ice cream shop, not the stupid woods, where the idea had been she got so terrified she turned to him for comfort and, hopefully, love. But now…"I'd love to, but I don't think I can. How many times have we gone already?"

She sighed happily. "Six. Well, five and a half if you count the first time. I wouldn't mind one more shot. You're sure you can't?"

He chuckled. "Pretty sure. I'm so tired, I don't think anything could turn me on at this point."

She moved her hand under the sleeping bag that covered him to grasp his and slowly brought it back to smooth down her body. "You're _positive _you can't go one last time? I'm pretty sure that you might be able to give it one more go for me. Come on, it's probably going to be our last time and I've heard that it's a lucky number, you know. Maybe that lucky number could offset anything else that's causing all this bad stuff."

He gulped, feeling his body get ready again. "Seven?"

She grinned, noticing his expression and noting what it meant. She leaned forward, a whisper before their lips clashed again, "Six and a half."

**(PAGE BREAK)**

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, _Ash thought violently. Every time they did this he cursed himself, he told himself they wouldn't do it again. But, every time she smiled or did the merest seductive action he was suddenly hovering over her, breeding like they were a pair of rabbits about to go on the extinct species list. This was increasingly bad as any second his loved one might 

snap and kill him in the middle, and, even worse, for a few seconds he might even think she was cutely biting his neck and then he'd die…with an erection…

That was probably the scariest thing of all. She could do anything to him. Her little sex slave, that's what he was. She knew every move, every flirtatious sound every sexual hotspot on his body and he just couldn't resist. Maybe if he had had girls flirt with him before, if he had girls kiss him or flirt and grab him and tell him how fantastic he was he'd be able to resister her. Pin her down and tell her it was time to stop the sex and move onto what was important: getting The Beast out of her and killing it.

Sadly, the path that started with 'pin her down and stop the sex' quickly switched to 'pin her down and sex her up again' due to the 'Oh shit, if I'm dying my genes are definitely going into the next generation' response that all male animals have buried deep inside them. So, as he felt himself get aroused, _again_, even though he had truly thought he'd never be able to go again, he smoothed his lips down Misty's neck, savoring her taste.

She moaned, cuddling closer and kissing him as best she could. "I didn' think I swung thiz way, but you're plen'y smexy, Ashley."

He moved his way up to her ear, nibbling on it for a second, pleased to hear her moan. "Misty, Mist, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I need you to. I want to kill it Misty. How am I supposed to kill that thing? I want you back, all of you. I don't want some damned bug fucking this up. I have you, I finally have you and nothing can take you away from me, but I need your help if I'm going to save you. Please. Just give me a hint."

She shifted, her body pressing into his and her voice hot in his ear. "Kill me, Ashley. Kill me, then smash the bug. Don't let it kill anyone anymore. The death of one for the life of a thousand. The things it's done, Ash. It's just playing around now. It's just killing, getting its power up. Once it does, oh, Ashley, bad shit's going to go down. I don't want you to die, baby, so you've got to kill me first. You've got the chance to live, not me. Please? And how about another go before I run off into the big, scary jungle?"

"I can't just kill you!" Ash hissed.

"Why not?" She pouted, pulling away. "You fight about sleeping with me, you fight about killing me. You know, I'm giving you solutions to all your horny male problems and you're just pushing me away. You should always listen to the woman, she knows what's going on. Besides, you know you want me. Let's just go again and again and again. You know I'm the only action you're going to get. I'm a woman, remember? I know."

Ash sighed. "Misty, listen, the sex is great. It's wonderful, really, I love the sex. I think the sex might be the favorite part of our relationship. You're very good at it, you know a lot of stuff from your sisters, it's loads of fun. Trust me, if the situation were absolutely anything but this, I would not stop and question you at all. You would get all the hot kinky, weird, wonderful, wonderful, _wonderful _sex you wanted. In fact, you'd get even more than that."

"If the situation was anything other than this," Misty smirked, "you wouldn't get to touch anything. I'm just prepared to die, so there it goes. Now, if you really don't want anymore sex and you're completely convinced there's some other way, you can lay down and I'll just use the parts of you I need. You can use your brain. There's no way to get to it. I'm sorry, Ash Ketchum, but there really are some things you can't beat. This is one of those things."

"It doesn't have to be," He whispered, kissing her softly. "There has to be some other way. I just found you. You can't go away so fast, Mist. Please, if there's anything I can do. Sacrifice a thousand virgins to Satan or something. _Please_, you know I've been in worse situations than this before."

"Ash, listen to me," She raised his chin and looked him in the eye. "I love you more than anything. If there was anything I could do to stay with you, believe me, I'd do it in a second. 

But I can't, Ash. It's a part of me. It's _inside _me. It's in every cell, every molecule, it's taking me over and you can't stop it. It's like…like Alzheimer's disease. They don't know how to stop the brain from breaking down, it's the same thing here. Except…my brain isn't breaking, it's being taken over by some evil bug parasite demon thing." She laughed lightly. "Are you done fretting now? Can we do something better?"

Ash sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her sweaty scent, somehow relishing the typically gross aroma. "I want to hold you for a while. Just for a little bit. And then…once all this is done we can go and we can have sex or something but just for now I want to pretend that we're just together. That we're just camping and kissing and loving each other forever."

"Pretty romantic for ya, Ashley," She murmured, smiling. "I wouldn't mind that, though. Nothing like cuddling."

A few moments of silence passed, and with a lilt in his voice, Ash asked, "So, do you feel like smoking a cigarette?"

"You're not that good."

**(PAGE BREAK)**

She could feel it, oh, how should could feel it firing up in her veins. There was nothing she dreaded more than the feeling. It was a strange one. It started with the feeling of warm water, starting in her eyes, her heart, her lungs, everything basic leaking away. It was swiftly countered with a tingling, like her body had fallen asleep. Her limbs became heavier, and heavier, impossible to control. The world turned foggy, then vanished to that unconscious place between life and death.

She broke from Ash's arms, the boy beginning to wake at the commotion, and ran. The warm water feelings was starting, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she lost control all together. Naked or not, sane or not, she didn't want to be around Ash when she lost it. She didn't want Ash to die because of her.

And then…in a way, she did. It was certainly taking her over, she knew that now. Not destroying what made her her, but destroying _her_. Her soul leaked away, but the memories were there, hot and fresh. They were ready to be used, to be the perfect duplicate. It knew every name, every date, and it certainly had no reason to keep her alive. Not with everything it needed right at its buggy fingertips. Oh, how she hated that buggy bastard. There was nothing more she'd rather do than reach inside her head and pull it out, squishing it inside her palms, anything to watch its guts come flying out.

_And _I'm _the evil one? _The Beast chuckled. _Awfully violent for some sweet little girl from Cerulean. I certainly chose the right one when I went after you. Crazy thing, huh? And you have so many friends, you're pretty. I simply couldn't have chosen a better person. So, do you want to know who I'm planning to kill after Ash? I'll head into Pallet and I'll kill Gary, and Prof. Oak, and Mrs. Ketchum, and Brock, and Tracey, and I'll kill all your other little friends! You want me to describe how I'll do it?_

"No," Misty growled, feeling dirt grow moist under her feet. There was the gentle sound of lapping waters in the distance, the evening sun shining ahead through the trees. "Just shut up. Just shut up and go away. Go take over somebody else's mind. We've been through worse than you before. We'll kill you. We'll kill you. I swear we will. Ash will kill you. He's the Chosen One. He'll slaughter you. He'll _kill _you."

_Oh, I'm not too worried about that. The boy hasn't killed before, silly girl. He hasn't even hurt someone, not _really _hurt someone. He's gentle. He's cuddly. He's cute. Cute people may save the world, but I promise you, he won't be able to kill, much less kill a demon wrapped up in _

_the pretty package of his girlfriend. High expectations, pretty girl. Your boyfriend can't meet up to all of them. At least he was a good fuck._

"You enjoyed yourself then?" Misty asked coolly, the water growing louder in her ear. "Fantastic. Maybe now you'll change your mind about killing him? I'm sure he wouldn't mind sleeping with something he thought to be me. He'd just be so excited if you went and pretended that you didn't take me over and it was all in my head. How about you let us all go? Kill things in Pallet, do your best to keep it hidden from him. You know he's not all that bright. I'm sure he'd never figure it out. He seems to have the stamina to go over and over again too. Give him a chance, I'm sure you could enjoy him as your little sex slave."

_Blood between your teeth is better than any orgasm, love._ It laughed again. The sound was smooth, sexy, _her_ own voice resounding in her ears.

"You're still planning on killing him then?" Misty was confused as to her own voice, it seemed to have a lilt to it, musical and almost distant from the situation. Then, she mused with almost hysteria, that The Beast had taken that over too. Not completely, not yet, but just another step up.

_Of course I am, sweetie, _her voice giggled. _I can't just let him _go. _Just like I couldn't let you leave the forest. You're going to stay here to kill everyone and I move on to the city! That's what I always do, dear, and I'm quite good at this by now. Ashy hasn't faced anyone hundreds of years older than him._

"He was possessed once," She blurted. The trees vanished around her, and a second later she was stumbling into the lake, falling into the icy red water with a moan. It swirled and churned around her, angry at being disturbed but settling quickly. It _was _cold, she realized, but it didn't feel real. It was like a dream, a very real dream but a dream nevertheless. The senses were all fading now, another thing for it to control.

_Mmm, yes, heard about that. That's little league stuff. _I _could have possessed that spirit. Well, not really. I need a body to posses things. I work through the mind. The physical mind. Actually, I'm currently burying myself deep into your brain. Slowly killing everything that makes you you and taking your body over. Fun, isn't it? _It giggled. _I crawled in through a hole in your arm._

Misty shivered, picturing the moment it entered. "I don't need to know. All I want to know is if there is anything I can do, anything I can possibly sacrifice to save Ash and my family and friends. That's all I want. You can use my body for anything else. You can make me kill myself. Make me…make me go after people I've never met before but can't you just leave them alone? At least…at least leave Ash alone?"

The voice came back at her, sounding angry, almost offended at the very idea. _Are you completely intending on taking away my fun? Where's the suffering in _your _death if I'm not going to kill your friends? It's not blood or death or any of those things that I'm interested in, kid. I'm interested in _suffering._ I want people to be in _pain_, to ache until their final breath. For every ounce of them, their body, their mind, their soul, screams and begs and pleads for me just to finish them off, to let them pass on. _

The voice lowered to a growl. _That's the big secret of demons and nightmares and devilish things that go bump in the night. It's not for destruction, or death. We want your pain. That's what scary stories are for. They make you care and they make you hurt. How could I _possibly _pass up the boy you love, the boy you finally admitted you loved, when deep inside I'm going to hear you screaming inside for me to stop. Won't that be fun? You want to watch them die? I'll let you watch._

"I don't _want_ to watch," She mumbled, sinking low in the water. For a second, she managed to slip under, only for The Beast to seize control of her arms and push her up to the surface, 

forcing her lungs to suck in the fresh air. Apparently, killing herself was not an option, though that would have made things much easier.

_I'll make you watch then._ She said, voice now calm. _No difference to me. As long as you're miserable._

"Misty?" Ash's voice called.

She swore, face wrinkling up and sliding down in the water again. She sat on the bottom, head back and up to her neck in the icy water. She wished her body was weaker, or at least a bit normal. But, Waterflowers were resistant. Water that would send another person into shock, give them hypothermia barely bothered her. Perhaps that was one of the reason The Beast had chose her. It seemed like a good enough idea when your home was near a lake, when you wanted your host to get naked so it would fall in love with the strongest, kindness, most wonderful boy in the whole world right before you crushed their spirit.

"Go home, Ash," She returned to him, breathing slowly.

"No, Misty," He laughed, emerging through the trees. There he was, clad in nothing but his boxers and an old pair of pants. He'd been worried when she ran off, completely forgetting until he hit the first rough stones that he should have put on some kind of shoes or socks or some kind of protection for his feet. "I can't just go home, not without you. Besides, we're kind of stuck here, remember? No matter where I run I just go right back to the camp. I'm amazed I even made it to the lake."

"I don't care where you go, Ash," She continued. Her eyes closed, and she concentrated wholly on stopping The Beast from leaping up and wringing his neck. "Go wherever you feel like. Just get away from here."

"I feel like being here," He smiled, walking up behind her.

She moaned quietly, feeling her fingers twitch without her consent. "Arceus, Ash, why? You shitting moron, why won't you just leave?"

"I was worried about you. You ran off naked. I mean, I told you already, Mist. I love you. Look at what we did back in the tent." He began to roll up his pants to enter the water. "You can't tell me that doesn't mean anything to you."

"If that's what it takes for you to leave, then yes. It didn't mean a thing. Just get far, far away from me. Just try. If all else fails, shoot yourself in the face and end it quickly, alright? The way you die if you don't isn't going to be any fun so, really, just put on a fake smile and run. Come back with guns and torches and flamethrowers and kill me because that's the only way this is going to stop. Just run, Ash. Please get the hell out of here." One hand raised to wipe at her face, stopping the tears from falling.

"I'm not just going to leave you," He insisted.

"_No_, Ash Ketchum. Get the fuck out of here."

"You can't just make me go away. I love you, Misty, please. Just, come back with me. Maybe we can try and get you to a hospital. Maybe you've just got some kind of stress or something and its making you have crazy delusions and stuff. You…you can't just let it one and stop fighting. You have to fight to the finish."

"Ash," She whispered, shaking her head. "Fighting this is like trying to fight off an incurable disease. It doesn't do a thing. It's not like what you went through, Ash. Trust me, I'm fighting my butt off. If I wasn't, well, you'd probably be dead right now. So just get out so I don't have to watch you die. That's the last thing in the world I want right now, Ketchum, but I can't save you if you don't try to save yourself."

"Well, what if I don't want to live without you?" He retorted.

"You're just being corny and stubborn now!" She screamed. She turned on him, glaring furiously and sending a wave of water in his direction. "Just get the hell out of here! I can't fight it off forever! I don't want to live with finding out that I killed you! How would you liked to live with that, knowing you killed _me_? Don't be selfish, Ash! Get out of here! Save yourself for me if no one else!"

"Misty-" He began, voice cracking.

"Not for much longer, Ash." She whispered. "Not much longer at all. In a few minutes, maybe even seconds I'm going to be gone and The Beast is going to be the only one here. And The Beast wants nothing more than to watch you die. I can't stop it form doing what it wants to, and I don't think you can kill it."

"Is it strong?" He asked.

"No stronger than me, but, Ash, really. Do you see yourself as the murdering type? Much less, killing me? I don't think you've got the heart to do it. So go away." She smiled softly, wondering if she could risk getting close enough for a kiss. She decided against it, and hoped he would understand and not lean forward.

He didn't, he never did, and soon he was just an inch away from her face and closing. She shot back, her last major movement for what she guessed would be a long while. "No, Ash. You've got to get the hell out of here. You've got last night and you've got everything that went on in this stupid place. Remember that, alright? I swear I love you. Now scoot. Lots of love and make sure you have some nice kids, alright?"

"Of course, Mist," He smiled. Ash tucked his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll get out of here, and if I hear The Beast, I'll run. I won't let it get me."

"Your word!" She exclaimed, coming towards him a bit again. "Promise me, unless you've got a gun and back up and stuff. You won't come and try and kill The Beast, or try and get me out. Promise me that. You know, at least I'll feel a little better then. You'll hide in the woods until whatever voodoo's gone, and then you go into a town far, far away from here. You promise me you won't let it get you or something, right?"

"Of course," He smiled sweetly. "I promise."

"The whole sentence," She continued. "Come on, promise me all of it you nutjob. You have to say it all or I'll think you're lying."

"Alright, I give you my word. I sincerely promise you: Misty, unless I've got a gun and back up and stuff, I won't come and try and kill The Beast, or try and get you out. I'll hide in the woods until whatever voodoo's gone, and then I'll go into a town far, far away from here. I promise you I won't let it get me or something." He soothed. "I love you, Mist, really I do. I'll get that damn thing eventually, even if it takes an army. Don't worry. I won't let you kill anything."

And with one last smile, he turned around, shoved his fists in his pockets and began to stride off. A few seconds later, safely shrouded by woods, he stopped and waited. Sure, he could keep to his promise and leave, make Misty a bit happier. But he wanted that thing dead for what it had done, so he stopped and he waited, because, soon enough, it had to come out and then he could kill it. Until then, he would stay crouched in the woods, eyes flickering around, looking for something he could use as a weapon, and wait.

While he waited, Misty was losing herself. Swiftly, quickly, everything fading away as she was pushed inside herself. It was almost soothing in a way. She did like the tingling a bit. If it hadn't come with a homicidal urge and relinquishing her soul to Satin, perhaps she would recommend it. It was faster this time, the tingles and the blurry world twisting into one sensation. A moment later, she couldn't feel her body, couldn't move, couldn't twitch or breath or feel her heart beat, but she could see. Not just that, she could hear.

"Ash?" Her own voice called. "It's the bad thing, Ash. I'm finally out; you can come out too. You want to duel? I guarantee you it'll be fun. I might even let you win for a little bit. Of course, you'll have to die in the end, but," The Beast laughed, "Well, it'll be fun while it lasts, don't you agree?"

The boy hesitated, moving his weight from heel to toe and digging his fingernails into his palm.

"Come on out!" The Beast called again, laughing loudly. "I know you're there. I'm much more observant than your girlfriend! I know you didn't go too far! I saw those blinking eyes, those flaring nostrils when you made that promise! You _lied_, dear sir, and you're just itching to try and kill me now, aren't you? Come on! Take a shot! Take your best shot, lovey! I bet you can if you really try. I have faith in you, Ash!"

Ash shivered at the last words. It was _her._ At least, it sounded like her and…he didn't know how it faked such sincerity. How it managed to be…just like Misty in just one sentence. His stomach twisted tightly, but he stood and strode out from the woods, eager to face the thing that had killed his friends. "You…you're awfully good at whatever you're doing. You, ah, you sound just like her, you know. It's pretty creepy. I figured, um…"

She giggled. "That I'd be a creepy insect monster that burst out of her like a bad sci-fi movie? No! That'd be much too easy to kill me. I think it makes it a lot more challenging to kill a beautiful, young, naked teenager that you've been sleeping with for the past few days. Don't you think?" She stood, stark naked as the blood colored water ran off of her, leaving his mouth to drop open. "What do you think?"

"You're gorgeous," He murmured. Ash's cheeks flushed and his head shook quickly. "I mean, _she's _pretty. _Misty's _pretty. You're some mutant bug inside her body. And I can kill you! It makes no difference what body you're in! You killed my friends! You're trying to kill my family! You're trying to kill me!"

"Which one hurt more?" She inquired merrily, bouncing a bit. "Was it Pikachu or Misty? I think you might care about that mouse a little bit more than you ever cared about your girl. Honestly, you were always swarming around it, crooning to it. Misty could have been lying bleeding on the side of the road and you wouldn't have given her a second thought if your little buddy had a splinter in his paw."

"I'm not playing your little game. I know how you work. Things like you…you just go around killing everything and getting into people's heads and you just get people all riled up and angry at each other! You're not making me go crazy. You got May and you got Misty but you haven't got me!" He shouted, clenching his fists. "I'm not like them. I can't be tricked like them because I know how you work. You won't get inside my head! Oh, no, you won't make me go crazy like you did with them."

"Ah, right," She murmured, stepping closer. Her hips swung with each step and her grin turned seductive. "You're a man, a _real _man. Wanna have a good time, then? No more mind games, just more fun. I know stuff that your little girlfriend doesn't. We could have _so _much fun. I could do anything you've dreamed about and more. I'm not proper. I'm all into anything sinful. After all, I'm such a bad girl. Walking around, naked, wet, I'm just as dirty as the mud under my feet," She giggled again, deep and smooth. "Better yet, the dirt under _our _feet. You're a bad boy too, huh? My big, strong, Chosen One. Sensitive Ashley." She continued her smooth motions towards him.

It was just a few feet away when he snapped out of his daze, leaping away from it with a startled gasp. "Oh no! You're not getting me that way either! You're not really going to sleep with me. You're going to kill me!"

"Brilliant deduction," It agreed with a giggle. "I was going to kill you! Believe it or not, I got a guy with that once! I just walked right up and snapped his neck. Come closer and I can show you how I did it."

He took a step back, wildly shaking his head. "Oh no! I'm not getting one step closer to you! You're a crazy psycho bitch. Tell me how to kill you!"

"You know, that hurts, Ashley! I thought we had some kind of connection." It pouted, putting its hands on its hips. "What kind of moron do you take me for? You can't just go around killing me! I'm a fucking demon! I really, really want to finish up my reign of destruction, and it certainly won't end with you! It doesn't end until I get into town and kill some people down there! You're such a spoils sport. Come here and let me kill you. _Please_!" The begging sounded childish, almost humorous due to the situation.

"How do I kill you?" He growled.

"Well," It murmured, wavering and biting its lip. "I guess it would be kind of fair. After all, I know lots of ways to kill you and you don't even know one to kill me. Plus, I've got all these years behind me and it'll only make the game more interesting if at least you knew how. I don't really expect you to kill me, you know. I'm pretty good at surviving. So maybe I could let you…huh. You know, I've never really thought about it before. I suppose it's because this body is so much more, well, bright side-y and fun like! Not completely, but there is a touch of euphoria deep down there and I just like bringing that out and twisting it and…well, I've never had much time for fun, but I'm certainly taking my time now! It's all your doing, by the way. All that sweet and sensitive sex." It sighed. "Maybe I should take the chance and just let you know. It's not like I'm giving you a gun or something."

"You should definitely-" Ash began.

"Shut up," It quieted, waving its hand. Finally, it nodded. "Alright. Here's how you kill me. First, you kill my host body. Then, my little buggy self will crawl out. All you have to do then is squash the bug and I'm sent right back down to hell until someone tries to summon me out again."

He raised an eyebrow, still wary. "And that's it? There's no…no magic spell or incantation? No loophole you're leaving out so there's no way I could kill you."

It giggled again, jumping up and down. "Silly boy! I don't think you have it in you to kill me! Of course you got the truth! You're overestimating yourself. You know, that's an awfully dangerous thing to do. If you're not careful, I'm gonna kill ya! Do you just want to get it started? I'm getting sick of all this foreplay. I just want to get down and dirty!" This sent her into another fit of giggles, doubling over and holding a hand over her mouth. "What do you say, big boy?"

He took a stance, locking his knees and bringing up his fists. "Hit me with your best shot! I can take you!"

It took him in with a quizzical eye. He wasn't ripped, certainly not much stronger than the body she was in now. His stance was weak, too tight, too nervous. It would be easy to push him over, but it would be careful. The Beast had never been stupid, not to survive for this long, and it knew that even the weakest of fighters could be the strongest of heroes when adrenaline began pumping through their system. It would probably be best to end it quickly, just in case he _was _a better fighter than he looked. In fact, The Beast was quite sure it would be best to end it quickly, just like it had with the others.

But, like a cat with a mouse, it wanted to play with him a little bit.

It trotted up with a grin, circling him and nodding as he made sure to never put his back to it. Then brought up its foot and kicked him hard in the side, just below the ribs, knocking the wind out of him and sending him rolling to the ground. He wheezed for a moment, and it continued to eye him with the same wicked gleam in its eye.

"Well, don't just lay there!" It complained. "Roll over, little boy. Get to your feet and be _proud._ What kind of man just lays there? Have some dignity! Have some self respect and get up! Fight like you've got a pair!" She tapped his side again, lightly with her foot, making him moan. "Oh, dear. I did bruise one. Don't worry though. It didn't break or pop a lung or any nonsense like that. You can still stand up and fight. I've seen fish with broken spines that still try and swim away!"

Ash gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, pain stabbing his side with every motion. A few seconds later, and he was up on his feet, stumbling around with sweat beginning to cover his brow. There wasn't much he could say, really. What could he? He had been prepared, it had given him plenty of fair warning. It was his own stupid fault he was down on his ass, but he wasn't about to let it happen again.

Instead of pulling to his feet, he sat, then shot his arm out, gripping around the back of its knee. He hit it hard, making the knee bend and it fall to the ground. As it fell towards him, he shot his foot out, catching The Beast hard in the ribs, hearing a satisfying crack and giving a smile when she cried out.

"Hurts like fucking hell, huh? Haven't you heard that age old saying? It's probably younger than you! You don't fucking harm what you can't fucking kill!" Ash kicked it in the head, sending it flat on its back in the dirt. "Dammit."

The Beast moaned, rolling in the dirt and clutching at its side. "Way to go, Ashley. No one ever went and hurt me that badly before. That burns like hell! No wonder you scream so loud!" It sat up then, shaking its head and grinning. "I've got the power to heal though, not like you. You'll be bruised for months. I'm already all better! Go ahead, Ash! Go ahead and give me another good kick! The pain fades pretty fast once I fix myself up. It's barely a few seconds! I bet it hurts even worse as time goes on, 'specially if you have to move. Maybe I'll just let your lover feel it every time I get all banged up, and then I'll come back to rip your throat out and kick you in the testicles."

Ash gritted his teeth and got to his feet, pain popping over and over on his side. "If you can heal yourself, how the hell am I supposed to kill you? Don't you consider that a loophole? What the hell is the point of fighting you if you just get back up no matter how hard I freaking hit you!"

"Ashy!" It teased, standing as well. "That's not true! You just have to kill me while I'm down. Break my heart, my brain, trust me, I won't get back up. If you do it in one shot I'm as dead as your little friends. Do you want to go back to fighting then, or should we sit around and talk about how much pain hurts or how you can kill me? Personally, I'd like to go back to breaking you bit by bit."

"Feel free," He muttered. "There's nothing I love more than getting tortured. But, tell me, are you really as heartless as you act? Are you really a demon, or just some kind of innocent, restless spirit that doesn't know how to pass on." Ash grinned, bitter and malice lurking in his eyes. "I doubt it, by why not rule out every last option?"

"Nope!" It cried, throwing its arms out wide. "I'm a demon, lovey! I love killing and slaughtering the innocent and all that stuff that haunts your nightmares. Not a trace of good in me! That wouldn't make for an exciting tale. I've got to be all evil, or else you'd feel way to guilty about killing me and punching me and hurting a fragile female."

Ash snorted. "I'm not that chivalrous. I've traveled with Misty a little too long to be afraid of hitting girls."

"Lovely. So let's try this again, shall we?"

It came at him again, obvious in its attack this time a fist tightly clenched at its right. The Beast brought it up, swinging it at his head. Its stomach was exposed, and he took advantage of it. He doubled over and hurled himself forward, tackling it into the dirt and pushing his head hard into its diaphragm. Once it was down, he pulled away, tightening his own right fist and swinging it up into the side of its face.

It cried out again, a gurgling sound warped by the shattered jawbone. It brought both its feet up into his chest, shoving him back a few feet and giving itself enough time to recover. Its jaw, a moment ago twisted and arcing to the left, began to twist back. Cracks were heard, quickly followed by more shrieks of agony as muscle sewed itself up, soon leaving a perfect jaw line and teeth. The only sign it had even been hurt was the chunk of blood, torn muscle and boned it hocked onto the moist dirt.

It glared at him, anger firing up in its eyes. "That fucking _hurt_, Ash Ketchum. You'll pay for that. Oh, you'll _pay _for that, you shithead. You asshole I'll make you _pay _for that you disgusting pig."

He grinned. "Can't taste your own medicine, can you? And you've done worse to my friends. I'd love to tie you up and-"

It was back on him in a second. Its fists beat on him, screaming, feet stomping on his body too. But it was fury that drove it, not the calm resolve that had killed the ones before him. They hurt, they bruised, but nothing broke. Nothing was truly damaged. And that simple fact pushed him over the edge, making his head toss back and laugh, loud and crazy with spit flying from his mouth and showering on The Beast's face.

"Ketchum!" It screamed, falling back. "You fucking ass! Just die! Just die! Damn you!" It slashed at itself, a dark line of blood following its nail down its arm, not pooling, but like a marker as it healed quickly. "You hurt me! Oh, oh, oh! You hurt me! You'll pay for hurting me!"

It leapt at him again, teeth sinking in deep on the bare flesh of his shoulder. Ash screamed this time, his eyes screwed shut but color flashed behind them, bright and blinding. Its teeth dug in deeper and deeper, head shaking and tearing through layer after layer of flesh. The Beast raked its claws down his chest, his sides, his back, sending blood flying and pouring out with every strike. Enjoying it all, it gulped down the salty blood and filled itself to the brim, then forced down more.

Finally, when Ash could take no more, the teeth released his shoulder and went for the jugular. Its mouth wrapped around his neck, growling deeply but hesitating before sinking down, almost as if asking for any last words.

He had some, quiet and cracked. "She was so _damn _right."

Then he was gone. Teeth sunk in and its hand came up to his forehead, pushing it back and snapping it with the same ease it would have had with a chicken. Just as it had with Drew and May, it drank with was left of the blood. Gulp after gulp until he was emptied, then went about its work of eating the flesh. The sun fell lower in the sky, darkness coming over and it sucked the bones clean with macabre delight. Its face flushed merrily and it moaned, this death better than any other death she had done before. Revenge made everything sweeter, made raw meat taste cooked and seasoned in the finest herbs by the finest chefs. When it was finished, its only complaint was that the boy wasn't a bigger meal.

And inside, Misty watched it all, and she screamed.

**(PAGE BREAK)**

Sorry this took so long! One more chapter to go! I've just been so busy with my new story Rebellious Thinking (which only has one chapter right now) and my Challenge fic and, well, you know how it goes.


	5. If You Give a Mouse a Cookie

**Chapter Four: If You Give A Mouse a Cookie…**

The Beast smiled to itself, pulling Misty's clothes on with slow, lucid motions. It had been in hundreds of bodies, thousands of bodies even through the ages, even trying on a half dead one or two to fix them up before The Beast killed them again. Even though it had gone through all these hosts, it had never been in a body quite like this before and certainly not one that had nearly as much fun. A bit of the soul was latched onto it now, giving it a fantastic wild streak that made its eyes light up with its breath quicken. Its hands stopped dressing for a moment as it felt memories flash through its head, the wild night with Ash before. It had been there, in the back, though Misty had been in full control. Its head rolled back with a quiet moan of ecstasy, its hands coming up to clasp over its heaving chest.

"_That was fucking _mine_," _Misty snarled, trapped inside her mind. _"He's mine. He's always been mine. You took him from me, you bastard. Why couldn't you have left him alone. The one thing I asked of you. I gave you my body. I'm giving you a way to kill everyone and you couldn't have just left him alive for me? You couldn't have left him alone? If you had just given him a chance I would have…I wouldn't fight you. If you let him go I would have let you kill everyone. But, oh no, not anymore. I'm not letting you kill anyone. You're going to die. I'll make sure you do."_

"Hmm," The Beast said thoughtfully, smoothing down the yellow top. "I've heard that one before. Death threats aren't new to me, sweetie. Everyone tries to kill me, and I'm still here. You can't exactly take control either. I need you alive a little while longer. That's the only way I can get close to your family and friends. You can't take over though, not any longer than a few seconds if you're truly persistent." It sighed and did up its hair in her typical style, not a hair out of place as she finger combed the ponytail. "I have a feeling you will be persistent on this. I really wish you wouldn't. I have a bit more experience at this than you do."

"_That's what you were telling me last night_," Misty growled, distinctly remembering that voice whispering advice in the back of her mind. _"And I _will _kill you. Those death threats you got before were nothing, Beast. You've never met a girl like me. I'm crazy, and I'll find a way to kill you even if no one else did. You don't know me."_

"But I _do_!" The Beast giggled, bouncing a bit as she sat to tug on her shoes. "I know all about you lovey, and I know you're not the average girl. Trust me, it's so exciting being in a body so much fun to act out. If anyone could kill me, I quite suspect it would be you. You've got a kind of ruthlessness in you. You've got a…a killing instinct. You have a murderer's streak inside your heat. Comes from that crazy mother of yours, doesn't it? She's still out there after trying to kill you. I can't believe that. You humans are usually so good when it comes to catching people once you know their names. Tell me, does it sting to know your very own mother hated you enough to attempt homicide?"

"_She was sick in the head," _Misty retorted calmly. _"And that's none of your business either. I'm not sick in the head like her. Some people are simply crazy like that, but I'm not. I'm normal. I don't have that murderer's streak or whatever you want to call it. I'm a different kind of crazy."_

It pouted, brushing off Misty's shorts and striding out of the tent. "No you're not, you mean girl. You just threatened to kill me. How could you possibly say you're not crazy like that? You've got the murderer's streak in you. I can feel it and so can you, don't even try to lie to me. You know it. That's hot rush you get when you hear a cracking bone isn't worry. It's a sick little flash of pleasure. Sometimes it happens, the genetics to be a killer. It's a miracle you haven't actually slaughtered anyone yet."

"_I'm not a natural born killer. I know you're just trying to get in my head."_

"Listen, kiddo, I'm in your head. I'm killing your family and friends one by one and forcing you to watch while they think that it's your own hands that kills them. I'm pretty sure I've got the torture thing down. This is just a lovely chat between victim and killer before the action starts up again. Surely you've seen this kind of thing in the movies. You can't be that much of a homebody. I'm honestly trying to tell you that, you, my dear, are a ticking time bomb. If I didn't step in to kill people you really would have started the murdering spree. You should be thankful. At least Ash was killed by me and not you."

Misty would have gulped if she had control of her throat, instead she bubbled over with anger and sadness and denial. _"I would never have killed him, not him or my friends. I'm not my mother. I'm different. I'm no killer. I'm not a killer. I can't be. I…I know I'm not. Don't you think I would have killed someone by now?"_

"Ah, well there's a kicker. What if I _am _you? I talk like you; I look like you; I'm in your body; I know all your memories and thoughts and dreams. It seems an awful lot like I am you. Maybe I'm your inner killer, being released through an alternate personality? Ooh! That's so much like a TV show! What do you think? Should they base a show off us? I don't know how we'd get our story out, what with me killing everyone I see and you being trapped inside your own body and forced to watch my spree."

"_You're not," _Misty denied, more to assure herself than to annoy the thing controlling her body.

"I'm not? Are you sure, cutie? You don't sound too sure. You're starting to wonder. I'd be wondering too. The police will wonder, when all this is done. If nothing else, they will think it was you. You had your mother's disorder. Completely crazy. You were a murderer, driven by blood and lust and, ooh, this would make a helluva TV show."

"_Shut up._"

"Oh! The best part, the best part! You'll be carrying Ash's child, and _that _child will carry on the murdering legacy. It'll be a never ending chain of murderers, wouldn't that be amazing? I suppose I should tell you that your gene has been passed down since the dawn of man. It's primal. That's how humans made it, you know. They've got theories all over on it. It's because we're crazy fucking bastards that'll kill anything. There's a reason why you've all named your problems 'inner demons'."

"_You think I made you?_" Misty sniffed. _"Impossible. I'm not nearly this creative. You can't come from my mind, because I doubt I'd shield myself from it. I get a pleasure out of it, remember? I can't lie, I do feel it, I guess. There is that…good feeling I get when you started killing. I know that I was born to be a killer. I can escape my destiny. You don't have to be a killer either, you know. You could be a good guy. You could be an angel of mercy and just stop killing everyone you come across. Please! You know it's so much more fun to have sex. You can have sex with whoever you want."_

"Sex is _not _more fun than killing," The Beast snorted.

"…_Is too."_

"Not it's not."

"…_Too."_

"Not! It's not and…" It froze. "I'm not getting into a child's fight with you. It's pointless. I'm no moron. Killing is more fun than sex, end of discussion. Now will you please be quiet so I can go kill your friends. I'm a very busy alter ego."

"_Make me, hellish demon."_ Misty had decided to let go of the idea of winning any kind of legitimate argument, and the plan couldn't be put into action until later. So why not be annoying instead? Make her captor suffer. It was revenge in the smallest dose, but it was revenge, and she could rest happily in that. _"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves. I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves and this is how it goes."_

Misty was quiet, making The Beast raise an eyebrow. "Well, what's the damn song? You started it, finish it."

"_I know a song-"_

"You just _sang _that part, what's the next part?" The Beast inquired, but its plea fell on deaf ears. It went to the girls' memories, searching frantically for the record that held the song, and groaned aloud when it realized what it was. Through generations there was different ways to annoy, and the endless, repetitive sound had to be the worst. Its teeth grit, hands clenching. "I'm regretting not killing your lover slower."

**(PAGE BREAK)**

"Mrs. Ketchum! Brock!" The Beast called, barging through the front door and tearing through the house. It was _her _voice, a voice it had no right to use but went right ahead with it. "Mrs. Ketchum, please come out. You don't know what kind of time I've had. It's hell out there, Mrs. Ketchum, oh _please._" It begged, pleaded to what Misty was positive was an empty house. "Mrs. Ketchum? Please be here, Mrs. Ketchum!"

"_Well, now you're just being retarded. She's not here, hotshot. She's probably at Prof. Oak's. She's not here twenty four/seven, especially when her son's on a mini-journey. She has a life. What are you going to do? Wait outside in the bushes until she comes back and remake your entrance? That doesn't even sound anything like me. She's going to know something's up. You still sound like a witch out of a fairy tale. 'Come here so I can eat you!' Try something a little more original. Run in crying. I scream when I cry, very loudly. Have fun embarrassing yourself like that."_

It humphed, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips in a Misty-ish way. It spoke to the air, looking ridiculous in the Ketchum household: "For your information, retard, I don't get embarrassed. In case you didn't notice, when I fought your boyfriend I was butt naked. Running in crying isn't embarrassing in the least. I can't believe that woman has a life. It's kind of rude, if you think about it. I'm trying to make a dramatic entrance and kill her and she doesn't even have the common courtesy to show up. I'm not saying that I blame her, she didn't know I was coming, but it's still rude and I don't think she should be allowed to do that."

"_Yes. Damn her. Damn her for being late to her own murder scene. How could she possibly be so rude? She deserves to die now, and definitely in a painful way. Damn her." _Misty agreed sarcastically. She was a bit startled that The Beast was, well, not Misty-ish. At times it mocked her perfectly, and at others it was childish, almost innocent in the ways of the world except for the murder. _"How old are you, for a demon?"_

"Not old at all," It returned. It flicked her eyes around the room, walking into the kitchen and open and closing all sorts of drawers. It was curious, lifting knives and spoons before putting them away. "I'm listening for Mrs. Ketchum, so don't worry. I'll hear her long before she gets her and cry on the sofa when she walks through the door. Maybe I can hide one of these knives on me. It'll be perfect. When she comes to talk to me I can just turn and stab her. It'll be over so quick no one will no what happened. Eating the victim always throws the cops off the trail, too, and that's my favorite part."

"_You're a child?"_

"I'm not stupid, if that's what you're hoping for. I'm just…curious. I like to know how things work, especially since things are so strange nowadays. It's been a long time since I've been in town. Everything's so new. I've never seen a TV before. Tell me how you turn it on. I want to watch a show."

"_Why should I tell you?"_

"Because I'll kill her slow if you don't. Kill 'er fast if you do. Fast is better. There's no pain or torture for you or the woman," It responded calmly. "If you want her to have at least a bit of peace, tell me how to turn this damn thing on. I'll see what I want to watch." It sat down on the sofa and stared at the black screen before it, looking as if it might find some way to turn it on with its mind. "Hurry up! How do I turn it on? She could come any second now and I'm very interested."

"_There's a black thing on the counter called a remote. Pick it up and hit the button that says power."_

She picked up the black remote and twisted it around in her hands, slowly at first, then quickly. "How do I make it speak?"

"_No, it _reads_ power. You know, words? You can read, can't you? Even the youngest kids can read nowadays, it's not a special skill anymore." _If Misty had a mouth at the moment, she would have smiled. The Beast was giving her clue after clue to its weaknesses. Curiosity killed The Beast, so to speak.

"I can read if you can," It shrugged, pulling out the memory with ease. She found the button and pressed it, turning on the TV and gasping with unbridled joy. "That's amazing. How do you get people inside a little box? You shrink them with some sort of magic, don't you? That's the only way you could do it. You have to shrink them. It's like a little play inside the box! How often does it play? Once a day? More?"

"_It plays all day,_" Misty said, her voice lilting. _"It's not magic; it's science. The people are normal sized and they're millions of miles away. You can change the channel too. Press thirty six, I think that's the horror station here. You can watch disgusting creatures just like you. They're all into murder and death and destruction. I'm surprised you hadn't tried this sooner. People haven't gone into the woods since the TV was invented?"_

"Takes energy to switch hosts," It explained absentmindedly, flipping to the horror channel and grinning as a screaming women was disemboweled. "Well, at least after a host dies. As long as my host is alive I can switch as often as I please. That's how I can stay out so long when I need to. Right before my host dies, I change. Sometimes I can't switch fast enough and the host goes. It was exactly one hundred years after my last host died when you wandered into the woods. After each body dies, I need one hundred years to get fixed up. Then I come back. But a lot changed in just one hundred years. It's a bit exciting, almost like time travel. You go away, then you come back and absolutely everything's changed."

"_How long do you live?"_

"Forever. I'm immortal. Kill me here I just go back to hell. I probably won't come back though. People have forgotten all about how to call up demons, so most of us are trapped in hell. It's ridiculous. You humans have bombs and guns and diseases and such and you don't need us anymore. It hurts to not be needed."

"_I'm sure." _Misty said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. But her plan was working. She wasn't sure how long Mrs. Ketchum would be out. She hoped it wouldn't be too long. With The Beast preoccupied with watching TV and divulging information it wouldn't notice Delia walking through the door. Even better, the act would not be very good if The Beast went from watching the horror station to crying about the murder of her friends. There was hope for the plan yet. She just had to cross her fingers and wish for the best.

"Huh. You people don't even need demons in you anymore. You kill people all on your own. Where's the fun in that? You're an evil race, I swear. First you cast out the thing that made you evil and then you become evil yourselves. That's crazy. I don't know how you stand being human. I would have killed myself a long time ago. Worse than demons. At least we show our true colors. You're nothing but backstabbers." It sighed and fell back on the couch. "Now I understand why you don't call up demons anymore. You don't need 'em. You just go and do the dirty work yourself."

"_You have a grim outlook on the human race."_

"Don't kid yourself. It's a positive outlook compared to what you all have done. I'm not the only one that has it. Pokémon aren't too keen on you either. You run around stuffing them into little balls. It's disgraceful. Some of them don't mind, and those are the kind that spring out of the bushes. They want to be caught. Plenty of them don't. They hide. You think they're rare, when really they just don't want to be your little slaves. Shocking to imagine such defiance, a pokémon wanting to be free, but it's true. All pokémon hate people. Though they might be a little more forgiving if you gave them TV's."

"Misty?" Delia asked, walking through the side door and dropping a bag of groceries on the table. "What are you doing here so…I don't know whether to use the word late or early. Brock came back and he told me you were right behind him, then you didn't come for a while but you're here now and…" She blew her bangs out of her face and ran a hand through her hair. "Where are the others?"

"The…the others?" The Beast gulped, searching for a lie. It couldn't possibly tell them they all died, could it? The woman wouldn't believe the story for a second. What to do, what to do? "They stayed behind. I tried to stick around for a little while, but the bugs kept coming at me and Ash was…I just couldn't stay any longer. I'm sure you understand what that's like, don't you Mrs. Ketchum? Boys can be so annoying."

She nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure. May and Drew kissing constantly probably didn't help much, did it, Misty? I've got some lotion for you to put on those bug bites. You won't be itching all night as long as you're with me! But did Ash say when he was coming back? I want to know how many to cook for."

"Oh, he's just camping out for another day. He wanted to prove he could stay around longer than me. It's some kind of macho thing I guess. May said she might be coming here later tonight for dinner, if she couldn't take the bugs much longer. She said she was sorry for not being clear, but she's really trying to stick out the bugs a little longer. I think it was to impress Drew." The Beast sat up and looked into the kitchen with a smile, resting its head on crossed arms.

"Mmm, that seems like her," The woman nodded. "I don't know why she tries so hard to impress the boy. He seems nice enough and he likes her just the way she is. You're not that way with Ash, are you?"

"Of course not!" The Beast said, a perfect Misty imitation shining through. "Why would you say that? It's not like we're dating. The last person in the world I'd want to impress is him! I'm looking for someone closer to my maturity level. Not that, er, your son isn't great, Mrs. Ketchum. He's a great guy I just-"

"I know, I know. We've been through this a thousand times before," She laughed, smoothing her white apron with one hand and eyeing the girl on the sofa. "What are you doing on your butt? Get over here and help an old woman unpack her groceries. I'm making you dinner, in case you've forgotten. You owe me some major chore time, especially since Ash isn't around. Whatever happened in the woods must have thrown you off, Misty. You're usually right on your feet whenever I bring in some kind of housework."

"You know how it is, Mrs. Ketchum," The Beast said, getting to its feet. "My mind's everywhere but here. I can't focus today. The bug bites are getting annoying and…I'm sorry. You sit down, take a rest. I can get all the bags picked up for you. I feel so guilty!" It tangled a hand in her hair and gave a short, guilty laugh to prove it.

"Oh, Misty. You know I was just kidding. You don't have to do a thing!"

"I feel like it, Mrs. Ketchum, sit down," It insisted. "It's the least I can do considering you're going to be my meal tonight."

"I'm going to _make _your meal," The housewife teased, "Not _be _your meal."

"Right," It laughed. "My mistake."

"_I'm not sure if that's a corny joke or a slipup. Share with me, did you just accidentally inform Mrs. Ketchum you're going to go cannibal on her?"_

_It was a joke, _The Beast lied, internally cursing itself for the Freudian slip before going about the housework.

"I'm glad to have you, Misty. You're a great help. Brock's coming over tonight too. He'll be here in just a few minutes," Mrs. Ketchum called over form the couch. "He went out to the woods today to try and find you. Won't he be surprised when he comes back. He gave me a call, said he found something and he'd be back to tell me in person. He sounded awfully worked up about it. I hope he didn't find a dead pokémon or something sad like that. I know it's not anything good."

The Beast choked on air, feeling its chest tighten with worry. "He…He didn't say what it was Mrs. Ketchum? You're sure?"

"No, he said it would be best if I saw him in person to get the news," Mrs. Ketchum said from the couch, curling up and letting her eyes close a bit. "What were you doing watching the horror channel, Misty? You hate horror movies."

"_Oh, gee, looks like you're getting busted here, aren't you?" _Misty sniggered. _"Whatchya going to do? Brock's on the way and Mrs. Ketchum is getting very suspicious of you, clever demon. You're failing big time at this. I don't even have to plan a thing. You're screwing this up all by yourself. That's one heck of a talent, I have to say. Can you sabotage anything, or just things you've started? I don't know, because you helped start my relationship with Ash, and you sabotaged that. I only ask, not because I'm stupid, but because I'm curious."_ She poked it with an imaginary stick.

_Quiet, Misty, _The Beats purred, opening the silverware drawer. _Mommy has some work to do. Don't you just adore bring your daughter to work day? You can see me in action. I've never used a knife before, so don't be embarrassed if Mama makes some mistakes. She'll do her best to fix them. It shouldn't matter though, it all comes down to the same result: One skeleton, lying on a carpet stained with her own blood. Won't this be fun?_

"_Not Mrs. Ketchum,"_ Misty urged, honesty in her words. _"Don't kill her. Wait for Brock. If you kill him first you'll be safe, because Mrs. Ketchum can't take us. Brock can. Come on, if you're really my alter ego, shouldn't you be a little smarter than this? Now isn't the time to kill her. Not with Brock on his way. You're going to get us both killed, you stupid Beast! Don't do it! Not now! Wait 'til tonight! They sleep on their backs! You can stab them or slit them before they can scream!_

"It looked interesting, Mrs. K. You see, I've started taking an interest in murder. You might even say a professional interest." The Beast twirled a large cutting knife, the length of Misty's forearm, in her hand. "There's no better way to understand it than to experience it. So I've been watching it on TV, real life. All that kind of stuff. I'm going to need all the experience my mother had if I'm going to be anything special. I want my name in the history books."

"Your mother was in law enforcement?" Mrs. Ketchum inquired.

The Beast chuckled. "Not quite." It continued its slow, sauntering walk to her. "My mother was a murderer, Delia. Not a self defense, or a paid murderer, but a true murderer. It was in her blood. A lust for death. It's in me too. I've been fighting for so, so long. Somehow…I can't seem to fight it anymore. See, Ash, May, Drew, they aren't coming back. They're dead. Killed in cold blood. I killed them. Then I ate them. Really, after you've killed, what's the harm in cannibalism? I was starving and the flesh was so warm."

"You're scaring me," Delia said, sitting up sharply. "This isn't funny. Put the knife away and cut it out, Misty. I don't know what's gotten into you."

"It's not what's gotten into me," It said, angling the knife towards the woman on the couch. "It's what's getting _out_. I'm a killer, Mrs. Ketchum, and there's nothing you can do to change it. Lay on your back and expose your throat. We'll make it easy and quick, though, I admit, I'll have loads more fun if you'll put up a bit of a fight. The chase is always something to look forward to. It's amazing. Oh, speaking of which, I slept with your son." It grinned. "Six and a half times."

"Brock," Mrs. Ketchum croaked nervously.

"He's not here. It's just me, you and a knife. Fun, isn't it? Sounds like a TV drama. Me, you and a knife. It's the next hit gameshow! It's like Russian Roulette, except you're screwed no matter what." It slid forward, behind the couch and knife right above her heart. "Any last words before I cut out and swallow your still beating heart."

"Brock!" She called louder. "Help!"

The Beast raised an eyebrow with a snicker. "And I wasted all that energy being poetic for you. Ah, well. Victims are never grateful anymore. At least I made your death fun, right out of a horror movie. _And _you get the pleasure of having the TV on as you die. You couldn't ask for a better death. I feel almost, disappointed to kill you. It's so…nice. There's not a bit of torture involved. Well, except for the fact that it is your son's sex buddy killing you. Wouldn't it be extra ironic if I was pregnant with you child."

"Brock, please," Mrs. Ketchum said, tears starting.

"Shut up," It said coolly, then jerked forward.

…But the knife twisted. Brock's heavy hand clutching over Misty's and thrusting it into its wildly beating heart. The knife sunk deep, easily slicing through breast, flesh, and muscle, then twisted as Brock flicked his hand with an air as stony as the rocks in his gym. His body was around her, bringing her in like a blanket as she threw her head back into his chest with an unearthly gurgling moan. Her free hand clutched at the side of his pants as if to reduce the pain, but it didn't work. Fresh blood flowed slowly down her body, though she was replenishing it as fast as she could, it was only delaying the inevitable. The host was dying, as hard as she fought for life, the body was fading, the lights going out in the corners of her eyes and each breath getting harder and harder to take. Legs buckled, but he supported her with a disgusted grunt, leaning down to whisper into her ear.

"How could you?" He asked gruffly, twisting the knife again.

"The bug," She moaned, clutching his pants tighter. It was Misty now, the bug beginning to abandon ship. It left only one switch on, the one to make more blood, to keep her alive long enough to change bodies. "Brock, kill the bug. Take the knife out. It's crawling around somewhere, I don't know where. It's a demon Brock, I swea.r I'm dead but it's not gone yet. You have to get it. You have to kill it. Oh, Arceus, I'm already dying you have to get the damn bug before it kills someone else."

"I'm sick of your fucking lies."

"I'm dying, you ass," She growled. "Why would I lie? So I can have the knife taken out and use my super human powers to heal? Hurry up and find it. Kill it. It's _me_, Brock, not the thing that killed Ash. I loved him, damn it! I slept with him! I slept with him before it killed him and you have to get revenge for me!"

He yanked the knife out and set her down carefully on the sofa, unsure as to whether she was telling the truth or not. "What does it look like?"

"I don't know," Misty said, her breathing ragged as she gripped the pillow. "You have to find it before it gets in someone else. It's a bug, look for a bug and step on it. And if you see a bump under your skin, stab it, because that fucker has to die. If you don't hurry, we're all screwed, so find it and kill it!"

"Misty," Mrs. Ketchum started through tears.

"Yes, I'm Misty. The Beast tried to kill you. Stabbing me was the right thing to do. I don't know how my heart's still working and I don't know how long it will be either, but it's not long. Mrs. K, Ash was the best kid I ever knew, and I loved him. He was also great in bed. Then The Beast killed him and, Mew, it's horrible and I wish I could be more sentimental but I don't have much time left. Mrs. K, you were great. You were like a mother that didn't try to kill me, and considering I've never had one of those, well, that's just fantastic. Thanks for being there and still caring that I'm dying even though a demon controlling my body tried to kill you." The girl felt her muscles spasm, making her arch and legs flash out, one catching Mrs. Ketchum in the side. "Sorry, unintentional. I didn't put all the groceries away either."

"Oh, Misty." She hugged the girl with warm arms, kissing her face over and over. "I knew it couldn't be you."

"It could've, but I don't think it was." She gulped. "I don't think it was."

The woman pulled away, rubbing her shoulder lightly. "What do you mean sweetheart? Wasn't it-"

"I don't know," Misty gulped. "It was saying…saying things about and alterego and…" The girl gasped again, her heart twitching and beginning to beat slower. "Just kill the bug. Oh, Mew, if you find a bug kill it and if you get a bug bite kill yourself, please. Murder that sucker. Send it back to hell and never let it back."

She gasped again, and closed her eyes, blood still pouring out, warming Delia's blouse. She waited, looking for the rise and fall of a chest, some sign of life, but she got none. The color was draining from her once flushed cheeks, her body becoming colder to the touch. Delia tried, again and again to wake her up, shaking the girl and crying out her name through tears. Brock was still searching in the background, bloodstained knife in hand and eyes on the floor. It was soon accepted that Misty was dead, and soon after that…well, they decided there was never any bug to begin with and it was, as crushing as it was, Misty that was the killer.

Brock and Mrs. Ketchum sat on the couch, looking at Misty's body and quietly discussing how they could explain it to the police. They decided the truth was best, no cover story needed with a history as crazy as Misty's, and knew that it didn't matter what they said because it would soon be distorted to what it was in the past: a campfire story. Misty would be possessed by Crimson Lake, the red waters were the victim's blood, and so on with the terrifying tale to keep nosy Pallet Town children out of the woods.

Brock did hear a strange sound, however, something like a cool whisper next to his ear explaining that: _This all could have been avoided with a damn can of bug spray_. But he tuned it out and went back to comforting the tearful ex-mother, rubbing her back and going his back to push dangerous thoughts out of his mind.

And, scuttling down the road back to the woods, was a praying mantis, covered in the gray matter that made up brains and crimson blood. If one had seen the creature and leaned down close enough, close enough to hear a squeaking voice, they would have heard something about a damn girl dying just a little too fast and having to wait another one hundred years before it would ever get to have a good old fashioned meal again.

**(PAGE BREAK)**

Let me explain this chapter's title. It's the title of a well-known children's story, a circle story. It's an elaborate series of events that starts with "If you give a mouse a cookie" and ends with something along the lines of, "you'll have to give a mouse a cookie." Since the monster lived, it's assumed that it'll do the same thing again, thus continuing the circle.

Now that _that _is out of the way, I apologize for being so late. See, I've been busy, really busy, and wallowing in a bit of self pity that, even though Slip of the Tongue was mostly something to fill my time, something easy and quick, it's always going to be my most popular work. I could write the pokémon fanfiction equivalent of the Mona Lisa, and I'm pretty sure that's still going to be number one, because it's straight out romance fluff and, well, because it has contestshipping (which is slowly taking over the fandom).

I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks so much to all my dedicated reviewers. Your responses mean the world to me!


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